


Live and Learn - Kids

by Morgana_avalon



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, mentions past rape but nothing explicitely described
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 10:05:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 61,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18386255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana_avalon/pseuds/Morgana_avalon
Summary: Warning, NC-17 for sexual situations. This story is completely AU. In it,Warren's dad decides that his eleven year old son needs a companion andsome attitude adjustment. He picks up a young hustler on Bourbon Streetand introduces him to Warren as his adopted brother. Then mayhem ensues.Rated NC-17 for the sexual situations poor Remy gets himself in to!





	1. Kids

Live and Learn

 

 

It was a cold night out on Bourbon Street. Hustlers were trying to find a john, and drug dealers were selling crack. All kind of activity was going on on one of New Orleans' most famous streets. But the young boy solely focused on the big and expensive cars driving by, scared and simultaneously hoping that one would stop and that the dreaded door would open. Trying to make himself invisible, he stopped walking. No matter how much he hated doing this, he needed the money to buy the food and to ensure he had a safe place to sleep tonight.

 

The chilly rain was coming down heavily, soaking his clothes and his auburn hair seemed plastered to his face, obscuring part of it. One of the other hustlers accidentally bumped into him and he quickly stepped away, not looking for any trouble. The older hustler didn't even notice him; he was too busy getting into the BMW that had just stopped.

 

Relieved, he sighed. It wasn't his time yet. It was still too early for the perverted johns to openly pick up the youngest kids, but they'd arrive within the next two hours.

 

"Salut, Remy, what are you doing out here? Didn't I tell you to go to the shelter?" Claudette, a fifteen year old drag queen approached him. "Look, this ain't no place for you to hang around."

 

"Ai, Claudette, don' worry 'bout me, non. Got seven lives like a cat. I'll be jus' fine." It had taken him some time to figure out why Claude changed to Claudette at night, but he had come to accept the fact that everyone was different and should be respected for the person they were beneath the clothes.

 

"You're too young, Remy." Claudette sighed and shook her head. "How old are you anyway?"

 

"Eight, Claudette, and I can take care of m'self, d'accord?" Remy shivered, recognizing the black Mercedes that was driving up to him. The driver rolled down the window and ignored the other prostitutes, immediately focusing on him. Shivers continued to torment his little body and involuntarily he backed away from the car.

 

"Fifty?"

 

Remy shuddered, hearing the hoarse tone of the driver, but at the same time he felt slightly relieved. Fifty bucks meant that the man only wanted a quick blowjob. "Oui, bien." Making his decision, he smiled saddened at Claudette and then opened the car door, sliding onto the passenger's seat.

 

"I don't have much time today," said the john. "I have a meeting in one hour and I feel a little tense. I need that talented mouth of yours to relieve that tension." From one of his pockets he uncovered the money and threw it into Remy's lap.

 

Remy quickly counted the money and tucked it away. Those fifty dollars would buy him several meals and a bed in one of the shelters. "Mais oui, m'sieur." He hated going down on them, but he had learned at a very young age that it was the only way to make money. Maybe if his parents had still been alive they would have looked after for him, but he was alone and had to take care of himself.

 

The john drove to a deserted alley and parked the car. Looking expectantly at Remy, he unzipped his slacks. Grinning, he signaled Remy to come closer.

 

Hiding his nervousness and loathing, Remy did what he had to do to earn those fifty bucks.

 

###

 

Warren Worthington the second was cruising New Orleans, pondering the latest addition to his empire. He had just bought one of the most prestigious hotels in New Orleans and he was already looking forward to spending some time in its penthouse. He had thousands of houses all over the world, but nowhere did it feel like home.

 

Maybe it was time to spend more time with his son and make up for being so much on the road. Warren was eleven now and getting an attitude like most teenagers did. The main difference however was that Warren was spoiled to the bone. Whatever the boy wanted, he got it from his dad and he had decided to put an end to pampering his son. It was about time that Warren realized how tough the real world was and he had been brooding for some time to find a way to peg Warren down a bit.

 

Huh, had he taken a wrong turn? He didn't recognize this part of town, had never been here before, but... "Shit, it's the red light district." The scarcely clothed women and the provocative way they were moving told him to get the hell out of here. Although his wife, Kathryn, had died three years ago, he had never experienced the need to seek out paid love, instead he had buried himself in his work, which had resulted in neglecting his son.

 

"Hey, handsome," one of the prostitutes cooed.

 

"Beau, come on here, mon cher!"

 

He was growing warm and flustered and he quickly drove on, hoping to leave this street behind him for once and for all. But instead it got worse. The female prostitutes were replaced by male hustlers, making him feel even more uncomfortable. Realizing he could turn only left, he did, and then wished he hadn't. This was even worse; this was a man made hell. Young kids, mostly boys were staring at him with blank, hopeless eyes. "Shit, no."

 

Picking up speed, he desperately wanted to leave this sordid place behind, but then... A pair of black and red eyes stared helplessly at him. The boy ducked away in the shadows, apparently hiding from him. Something made him stop the car and he stared at the deserted building the boy had disappeared in. What the hell was he doing? He should be leaving, not getting out of the car, but the memory of those black and red eyes had captivated him. Was the boy a mutant?

 

He hoped they wouldn't take his car apart while he went after the boy, and he stepped into the shadows himself, ignoring the whistles and sordid remarks coming from the hustlers on the pavement.

 

"Boy, where are you?" What possessed him to go after the child? Was is the loneliness and sheer desperation he had seen in those demon like eyes? Life on the streets was hard enough as it was and the mutant eyes would only make things worse. "Where are you? I don't want to hurt you, but..."

 

Sudden noise emanated from the floor upstairs and he carefully climbed the rotting stairs, hoping they would hold his weight. "You can come out of hiding. I don't mean you any harm!" But he knew that the boy had no reason to trust him. How many men had gone after him using the same words? There was no way of telling what the boy had been through.

 

Briefly, he pitied the other kids, still strutting their stuff outside, but he would help them later, fund some shelters, create re-homing programs and maybe they could learn some decent job skills.

 

He managed to climb the stairs and looked about. It was dark in here and he doubted he would find the boy if the child didn't want to be found. Then, suddenly, the black and red eyes flashed in the darkness. Moving toward the boy, he wondered what to say, what to do. "I noticed your eyes. Are you a mutant?" He didn't know if his bluntness would work, but he had always preferred the direct approach.

 

"Go 'way."

 

Worthington nodded his head; the boy knew he was trapped with no way out. "I want to help."

 

"I don' need your help!"

 

He had finally reached the boy and the full moon illuminated the room enough to see the scared expression on the boy's face. Going down on his heels, he hoped the child felt less threatened by his presence. "What are you doing here?"

 

"I sleep here..."

 

Shaking his head, he made his decision. He hadn't planned on taking in a street kid, but the young mutant needed someone to look after him and more importantly, the kid's presence might have a positive influence on Warren. Once Warren realized what a privileged life he led, he might learn some modesty and true understanding of the real world. This kid was just lucky that he had seen the eyes and had gone after him. He could have chosen any other child out there. "What's your name, boy?"

 

"Remy, m'sieur. What do you want from me?"

The fear in the burning orbs reminded Worthington of where they were and why men came out here in the first place. "That's complicated. Would you like to stay with my son for a while? He's only a few years older than you are and he needs a friend, a companion."

 

"Your son?"

 

The disbelief was clear in Remy's voice and again, he understood the boy's hesitation. He uncovered his wallet and showed Remy a picture of his son. "His name's Warren and I'm afraid I spoiled him. He needs a kid brother to look after. I don't mean you any harm, Remy."

 

The boy gave him an inquisitive look and Remy seemed to make his decision based on what he read in his eyes. "What is it going to be, Remy? Stay here or live with Warren and me? Look about, son, this is no place to sleep, this is no place to live. I'm offering you a place to stay and maybe I'll even fund your education if Warren and you get along." He extended his hand, hoping Remy would accept the offer. "What do you have to lose?"

 

The boy closed his eyes and Worthington held his breath, wondering why it was so important that Remy said yes. Yes, he was using the boy to teach Warren a lesson, but he wouldn't drop Remy like a hot potato afterwards. He would make sure the boy got a good education and provide him with a home. "Yes?" he added hopefully.

 

He smiled when Remy placed a trembling hand in his. "I take it that's a yes?"

 

"Oui, you're right, got rien to lose, dis ain' no place for me..."

 

"You made the right decision, son. I'm sure Warren and you will get along just fine." He rose to his feet and waited for Remy to join him. "Are you ready to go?"

 

"Non, wanna get some of my stuff first."

 

He watched Remy move through the darkness, collecting pieces of paper and some dirty clothes. Later, he would have those rags burned and replaced with clothing that fit his new status of Warren's playmate.

 

Finally Remy returned and they descended the stairs. He opened the car door for Remy to climb inside and noticed that the boy favored the back seat instead of the passenger's seat. Warren always wanted to sit on the passenger's seat, driving him insane with questions and demands.

 

"Are you comfortable back there?" He closed the door and slipped behind the wheel, ignoring the hustlers coming up to him.

 

Remy nodded his head once. "Bien."

 

Observing the boy by looking in the mirror, he found that Remy had pulled up his legs and was peeking at him through half closed eyelids. Now that he finally got a good look at the boy, he noticed the dark circles beneath the alien eyes, the worn clothes, dirty and unwashed hair. Remy was certainly too skinny for his age.

 

He briefly wondered if he had made the wrong decision by picking up Remy. One of the other boys would have done as well, but it were the alien eyes and the expression in them that urged him into action. Sighing, he realized that there was no way back.

 

###

 

Remy felt dazed and confused, sitting in the back of the car. He still didn't understand why he had gotten into the car with the stranger; he should have known better after all these years on the streets, but there was something about the man that urged him to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was because the man's eyes lacked any evil intensions.

 

"Where are you takin' me?" He finally found the courage to speak up. Yes, the man had told him about his son, but still, he didn't trust easy.

 

"Warren and I are staying at a hotel and there shouldn't be a problem to get you an extra room." He cleared his throat. "But I want you to behave and to act respectfully toward me and my son."

 

Remy frowned. What was it the man really wanted? "I don' understand."

 

"You don't have to, not yet. When we arrive at the hotel, you're going to take a bath, I'll arrange for some clothes and I guess you're hungry as well."

 

Remy nodded eagerly. "Oui, c'est vrai." After the john had driven him back, he hadn't had the chance to buy any food and he couldn't wait to wash away the scent the man had left on his body. Leaning back, he watched street after street pass by. They were heading for the posh district of New Orleans. "Tell me 'bout your son?" he said eventually when the silence made him nervous.

 

"His mother died three years ago and Warren has been alone since. I'm usually away on business and then he stays with my staff during the holidays. Mostly he's at boarding school. I thought that maybe having a kid brother would make him feel less lonely. He doesn't have any friends to play with."

 

"He doesn' sound like much fun," Remy couldn't help remark. He didn't like this Warren at all. Maybe he should reconsider and ask the man to take him back to... No, he wasn't going back to Bourbon street. He would play nice and follow this man's directions. He would do everything to get off the streets.

 

"He's a bit stuck up, but maybe you can change that? You strike me as an intelligent boy."

 

Remy almost blushed. He had been called many things from whore to demon spawn, but no one had ever told him he was intelligent. Briefly speechless, he stared at the back of the man's head. "What do I call you?"

 

"My name's Warren Worthington. That's mister Worthington to you."

 

Remy nodded. "Oui, m'sieur."

 

"We need to break you from that awful accent. Have you lived here all your life?"

 

Remy suddenly grew alert. "For de last few years, oui."

 

"And before that you lived with your parents, I assume?"

 

Remy shook his head. "Don' know my parents, m'sieur. Dey found me one night at de doorstep of de orphanage." Apparently his parents hadn't been able to deal with having a mutant for a son.

 

"One more thing. I don't want you to tell Warren where I found you. Let's say I found you through an adoption agency, yes, that sounds logical. I may adopt you officially if things work out."

 

Remy's eyes widened. "You wanna adopt me?"

 

"If you play the game and stick to the rules. Be a companion to Warren and we'll see what happens."

 

Remy was confused and didn't really understand what was happening. One moment he had been giving a john a blowjob and the next a man was offering to adopt him if he befriended his spoiled son. "I'll do my best," he promised, shaking at the idea of being thrown back out on the streets again.

 

###

 

Warren was bored, deadly bored. He was stretched out on his bed, sighing, and staring at the wall. His father had grounded him after he had talked back to the older man. No computer games, no TV, no distraction allowed. He was supposed to think his actions over.

 

It's his fault! He's always away! If mum had still been alive, he would be around more often. Now he was alone most of the time and the fact that he didn't have any friends only made things harder. It's because we're rich. Dad doesn't trust them when they want to play with me. Hell, he even forbids me to chat with them! Not everyone's after our money! I hate that money! I hate being rich!

 

Frustrated, he kicked the mattress hard and punched the pillow. Yeah, sometimes the money came in handy; he could buy everything he wanted, anything except friendship and honesty. Even some members of staff were trying to gain his favor, hoping it would help them financially. It made him feel like he couldn't trust anyone.

 

A knock on the door caught his attention. "What?" His tone was extremely bitter for an eleven year old.

 

"Mister Worthington is back and he wants you to come to the living room in ten minutes."

 

Warren cursed Sally, their housekeeper. She disturbed his miserable mood and he wanted to feel miserable, to wallow in self pity. "I'm grounded, or did he forget? I'm staying here."

 

The door slowly opened and Sally entered. She was a middle-aged woman with short red hair, strong green eyes and a conservative dresser. "Warren, don't anger your father any further. That's a bad idea."

 

Warren shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't matter what I do, Sally. He's mad with me anyway. He has been since my mother died." Although he didn't want to admit it, he liked Sally. She was the closest thing to a mother he had.

 

Sally covered the distance to the bed and sat down on its side. "He's a lonely man, Warren, and you're making things worse by behaving badly."

 

Warren looked away, unwilling to meet her glance. "He makes me so mad!"

 

"I understand that, but Warren, he doesn't know you and you don't know him. You were at boarding school until four weeks ago. Give him a chance to build a relationship with you. He's your father after all."

 

"I wish I still were at school. I liked it there!" Stubbornly, Warren banged his fist into the pillow. "He doesn't want me around, doesn't love me and that's the truth!"

 

Sally sighed. "You're just as stubborn as your father. Warren, just meet him in the living room." She got back to her feet and walked over to the doorway. "Oh, before I forget, your father brought a guest."

 

Warren raised an eyebrow. "A guest? One of his business partners?" He wasn't sure to be mad or relieved. He wanted to be mad because now he didn't have his father to himself, and he was relieved because now someone else could 'entertain' his father and he was off the hook.

 

"No, a young boy." Sally smiled secretively and then closed the door.

 

"A young boy?" Feeling curious, Warren sat upright. Rubbing his eyes, he wondered what his dad was up to this time.

 

###

 

Remy stared at the muddled water. Luckily mister Worthington had left, trusting him to take care of himself. He wasn't sure he would have been able to stand the man's touch if his savior had decided to help him get clean.

 

Bathing was heaven. He had filled the tub to the rim and had added bubble bath, letting his sore muscles relax. Living on the streets was tense, had him on an adrenaline rush most of the time and now he could let go. He was alone in the bathroom and he started to doze off, but then the door opened and he startled fully awake.

 

"I hope they fit."

 

Staring at the new, clean clothes, which mister Worthington placed near the bath, his insides convulsed. What if this was a charade after all? What if this Warren didn't exist and this man was merely luring him into a false sense of safety?

 

"I also contacted room service and they'll bring something to eat. You'd better hurry up, Remy. My son will be here any minute."

 

Remy nodded mutely and waited for the man to leave the room. Grabbing the shampoo he thoroughly washed his hair. It had grown long and now reached past his shoulders. Mister Worthington would probably send him for a haircut --if the man was for real--.

 

He struggled with the mass of water, but finally got to his feet. Carefully, he got out of the bath tub and dried his skin. Next, he inspected the new clothes. Underwear, jeans, socks and a blue sweater. Before slipping into them he brushed his teeth and rinsed with mouth wash. The salty taste of the john's come clung to his taste buds and he rinsed again, finally ridding himself of the awful sensation.

 

After combing his hair, he slipped into the clothes. The jeans were a little too big, but he didn't mind. Wondering why mister Worthington hadn't brought him any shoes, he eventually shrugged his shoulders and stared at the door. Was he supposed to wait here or join mister Worthington in the living room?

 

Too confused to move, he ended up waiting, counting seconds and eventually minutes. Suddenly there was another knock and he jumped. The door opened and mister Worthington appeared.

 

"Are you ready?"

 

Remy gingerly nodded his head and walked toward the older man, growing aware that he didn't really belong in this fancy setting. Warren would probably realize he was scum right away. How did mister Worthington expect him to pull this off?

 

Mister Worthington sat on his heels and Remy flinched when the older man inspected him. He even checked behind his ears! Shyly, he continued to stare at the floor, wringing his hands behind his back. Did his appearance satisfy his savior? Would he pass the test and would he be allowed to stay?

 

"You look fine to me, son. Warren's here and I want you two to meet."

 

Remy finally looked up at the older man. "What do I do?"

 

"Be polite. Don't bring up your history and stick to our story. I adopted you and you never lived on the streets, remember?"

 

Remy slowly nodded his head. "I'll try." His stomach convulsed when mister Worthington took his hand, leading him in to the living room. What if he disappointed the man? Would he be selling his ass on Bourbon Street within the hour? He couldn't mess this up. Too much depended on this!

 

Straightening his shoulders, Remy took a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet Warren's, forgetting that the alien eyes would probably shock the older boy. Remy finally made eye contact with Warren and cringed, seeing the expression in Warren's blue eyes. They were filled with disdain and rejection.

 

###

 

Warren privately burst out laughing, but made sure none of his feelings showed on his face. He didn't know where his father was going with this and the best thing was to wait and see. He closely studied the new arrival and raised an eyebrow. He guessed the boy was about seven or eight, the clothes were definitely new but couldn't hide the skinny body beneath them. What disgusted him most were the black and red eyes.

 

"What's a mutant doing here?" He disliked mutants. Like most people, he feared what he didn't understand and that fear changed in to hate.

 

The boy flinched, but Warren paid it no attention, instead he locked eyes with his father, who looked strangely fatigued. "When will he leave again?"

 

Worthington shook his head. "Remy's not leaving, he's staying."

 

"Why?" Warren stalked closer, no longer hiding his disdain, obviously looking down on the smaller boy.

 

"I contacted an adoption agency," explained his father, "Having a younger boy around, a brother so to speak, might be good for you."

 

Warren's eyes flashed with anger. "Dad, you can't be serious! You can't adopt him and I don't want anyone around!" He was mad as hell that his father had decided this without consulting, or even telling him! He disliked Remy instantly and was amused when the boy flinched as if the words physically hurt him. The boy obviously had no self- confidence and it would be easy to pester him in to leaving. His father's empire, the money and companies were his and he wasn't sharing with anyone! What had possessed his dad to take the mutie in?

 

Worthington's eyes narrowed. "You can throw your temper tantrum in your room, Warren. You're still grounded. I wanted to lift the punishment so you and Remy could get to know each other, but the way you're behaving now is unacceptable." He raised his arm and pointed at Warren's room. "I don't want to see you until tomorrow morning and work on that attitude. Remy's our guest and he's staying."

 

Realizing defeat, Warren glared at Remy and walked over to his room. "I want him gone!" Warren stared in to his father's eyes. "Do you hear me? I want him gone!"

 

Worthington remained calm, his eyes telling his son to get in to his room.

 

Warren slammed the door behind him and flung himself on to the bed. This was going all wrong! How could his father think that he wanted a brother? He was Warren Kenneth Worthington the Third! All he needed was money and people paying him proper respect! A sly grin surfaced on his face. One way or the other, he would find a way to rid himself of the mutie!

 

###

 

Remy shook visibly, hearing Warren slam the bedroom door. This wasn't what he had expected their first encounter to be like. Looking up at mister Worthington, he wrung his hands. "M'sieur, does dis mean I'm back on de streets?" He had never had a fair chance to make this work!

 

"No, Remy. You're staying here. Warren will start behaving if he knows what's good for him." He released a tired sigh. "I should apologize for his behavior. I didn't think he was that arrogant." He lowered himself on to his heels. "I'm sorry, Remy."

 

Remy simply stared back. "Now what, m'sieur?"

 

"Now you eat. I can hear your stomach growling from where I stand!"

 

Remy allowed the older man to lead him to dinner table where several food items had been placed. Peeking at Worthington, he wondered if it was okay to eat some bread, maybe even some cheese.

 

"Go ahead, Remy, take a seat."

 

Remy slid on to the chair and stared at the food. Not assuming all the food was his, he waited for the older man to speak again. The mere fragrances were making him dizzy and his mouth watered.

 

"Eat all you can eat, Remy. I need to make some phone calls and I'll be back in thirty minutes."

 

"I can eat everyt'in' I want?"

 

"And as much as you want."

 

Remy blinked his eyes. Worthington was actually smiling at him. Experimentally, he took a bite out of one sandwich, watching the older man closely. Was it really okay for him to eat all this expensive food?

 

Worthington smiled, nodded his head and disappeared in to the adjoining room, leaving him alone with all this delicious food. Scared that someone would still take it away from him he grabbed several sandwiches at once and stuffed them in to his mouth. Chewing quickly, he swallowed the divine food and washed it down with OJ.

 

He paused, deciding on the next thing he was going to eat and attacked the soup. Slurping loudly, he placed the bowl at his lips and emptied it. His stomach suddenly protested and he burped. He had never eaten this much in his entire life before!

 

The next minutes he busied himself with devouring the crackers and greens and after eating everything on the tray, he rubbed his full belly. Mon Dieu, he couldn't remember even being this full and warm!

 

"I take it you were hungry?"

 

The female voice startled Remy, who jumped off the chair. Frantically he searched for a hiding place and ended up making himself as small as possible behind one of the couches.

 

"Oh no, sweetie, it's all right. I didn't mean to scare you."

 

Remy gathered his courage and peeked over the couch. "Who are you?"

 

"My name's Sally, I'm the housekeeper." She walked toward him and smiled reassuringly. "And what's your name?"

 

"Remy..." Slowly, he pushed himself back to his feet again. She didn't seem evil and he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. "I'm Remy and m'sieur Worthington brought me here. I ain' no t'ief stealin' food."

 

Sally nodded once. "He told me he was bringing a guest. I just had no idea you were this young... and hungry."

 

Remy shuffled his feet, feeling nervous. "M'sieur said he'd be back... What do I do now?" He failed to stop the big yawn that overwhelmed him. First he had taken that warm bath, then he had stuffed his belly and now everything was getting to him. "Sorry..."

 

"So you're tired as well? I'm sure we'll find you a place to sleep." Sally extended her hand. "It's time to go to bed."

 

"Don' have a bed," said Remy, confused. "Can I sleep on de couch?"

 

Sally shook her head. "No, sweetie. Come with me."

 

Remy stared at her hand, uncertain if he should accept the gesture. In the end, he placed his tiny hand in hers. Realizing he was suddenly putting a lot of trust in people he didn't know, he almost pulled back, but Sally squeezed his hand reassuringly and pulled him along.

 

Then she opened a door and showed him his new room. "You can sleep in here."

 

Remy's eyes grew big. The big bed looked incredibly comfortable and soft. "Dat bed's for me?"

 

"But you can't sleep in your clothes. I doubt we have pajamas in your size, but maybe a T-shirt will do as well?"

 

Remy felt dazed and hopped on to the bed. It was even softer than he had thought. "Mon Dieu..." Looking up, he suddenly realized that Sally was gone and his panic returned. Maybe something bad would happen now? What if Worthington decided he did like little boys in that way? But no, he had a young son and... Remy's panic doubled for no reason and he almost made a dash for the front door, but then Sally returned with a T-shirt.

 

"This one should fit you." Sally handed him the shirt. Seeing the panic in his eyes, she frowned, but then dismissed it. "You can lock the door behind me if that makes you more comfortable," she said, instinctively feeling his fear.

 

"Merci..." Remy averted his eyes, suddenly ashamed of his thoughts. Sally left and he jumped off of the bed to lock the door behind her. Now he felt relatively safe. The big yawns returned and he stumbled back to the bed. He was almost too tired to change in to the T-shirt, but did it anyway, considering Sally had taken the time to find it for him.

 

Gingerly, he slipped beneath the covers and released a relaxed sigh when the soft mattress hugged him close. He pulled the comforter on top of his body and curled up on his left side. Not knowing what tomorrow held in store for him, he decided to relish this moment.

 

A moment later his eyes closed.

 

###

 

"Sally? Where's the boy?"

 

Sally looked up from cleaning the dinner table. "He was sleepy and I put him to bed, sir."

 

Worthington nodded his head. "That's understandable." He sighed and collapsed on the couch. "This is backfiring."

 

"What is, sir?" Sally walked up to him and remained standing in front of him.

 

"I thought Warren would like to have a little brother... but no, he wants Remy gone."

 

"You can't give in to him, sir. You have to put your foot down." Sally studied him. "Warren's struggling as much as you are."

 

"But he isn't trying in the least!"

 

"You have to understand where he's coming from," said Sally, compassionately. "He was sent to boarding school one week after his mother died and even during the holidays he didn't get to see you much. He's angry, angry and miserable. Deep down he's hurting, but he's afraid to show it."

 

He leaned back his head and pushed deeper in to the comfort of the couch. "Sally, sometimes I think I made a huge mistake by telling him to come home. He seemed much happier when he was still at boarding school."

 

"You can't give up now." Sally was growing impatient. They were both too stubborn for their own good. "What's the deal with Remy?"

 

"He's staying... at least for now. You're right. I can't give up now. Warren's spoiled rotten."

 

"I like the boy, but... where does he come from?" Remy's behavior set off her inner alarms.

 

Worthington didn't want to reveal the truth to her. "I contacted an adoption agency. If this works out, I'll continue to provide for him."

 

"So his parents are dead?"

 

He shrugged his shoulders. "Probably... or they didn't want a mutant for a son."

 

"I'll take care of him," promised Sally.

 

"Good." He got back to his feet and stared at his son's room. "Should I go in there and talk to him?"

 

"Wait until he's less angry," advised Sally. "Maybe in the morning? You grounded him and you shouldn't give in now. Let him know that there are consequences to his behavior."

 

"You're right." He wished her goodnight and returned to his study to call a few business partners.

 

###

 

A loud knock on the door startled Remy awake. Gasping, he stared at the door, not instantly remembering where he was. Then he recalled mister Worthington and his son Warren. The knocking continued, making him nervous. "Oui?"

 

"Remy? Do you remember me? It's Sally, the housekeeper. Breakfast's about to be served."

 

"Breakfast?" Remy frowned. Breakfast? That meant even more food!

 

"You have fifteen minutes to shower and put on some clothes."

 

Remy nodded his head, forgetting Sally couldn't see him. "I'll be dere!" He jumped out of the bed and landed on his feet, which quickly took him to the bathroom. His eyes widened, seeing the magnificent bath tub. "Later," he decided. He didn't have the time now. Instead, he jumped in to the shower cabin after throwing the shirt and his underwear on to the floor.

 

When he still lived on the streets he had showered once, maybe twice a week at the shelter. But the showers usually were dirty there and the hot water used up before he got a chance to step beneath the spray. But this was heaven. Sighing, he watched the water cascade down his body, washing away his shame and his tainted feelings.

 

Five minutes later, he forced himself to step out of the cabin and to dry his skin. He slipped into his clothes again, not even minding that he was putting on dirty underwear. He had only put it on yesterday! When he had lived on the streets his clothes had gone unwashed for at least one week!

 

Reaching the door, he unlocked it and hesitantly pushed it ajar. He peeked in to the living room, finding that Sally was serving breakfast. Mister Worthington was already drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper, but there was no sign yet of Warren. Innerly discussing what to do next, he took one step in to the living room, waiting for the older man to address him and tell him what to do.

 

Looking up from his newspaper Worthington smiled encouragingly and Remy forced himself to take another step. "M'sieur?"

 

"Hungry again, Remy? Come and join me. How do you like your eggs?"

 

Shyly, Remy walked up to the table. "My eggs?"

 

"Bacon and eggs? Sunny side up? Boiled?" Sally smiled and waited for his answer.

 

"Bacon and eggs? Bacon?" Where they offering him bacon and eggs? He had only had that dish once or twice in his life and he had loved it.

 

"Bacon and eggs it is then," said Sally and disappeared in to the kitchen.

 

"Come, take a seat." Worthington pushed a chair toward Remy.

 

Remy accepted the invitation and climbed on to it. "M'sieur?"

 

"Did you sleep well? You don't look as spooked as you did yesterday." Worthington sipped his coffee and buttered his toast.

 

"Oui, slept bien. Bed's soft." Staring at the toast, Remy's stomach began to growl again.

 

"Here, get started." Worthington placed two slices of toast on Remy's plate.

 

Remy didn't waste any time and put gigantic amounts of jam on the toast before devouring them. "Where's Warren?"

 

"He'll join us in a few minutes. I hope he'll behave today." Worthington placed the newspaper aside and studied Remy. "Do you like it here?"

 

"Oui, m'sieur!" What a dumb question! He had a bed, food and a roof above his head. What was not to like? Okay, maybe Warren!

 

"You'll have to be patient with Warren," sighed Worthington. "But you don't give up easy, now do you, Remy?"

 

"Non, m'sieur, don' give up." He was barely paying attention to the older man, too busy chewing and swallowing the toast. Suddenly the delicious fragrances from the kitchen made him move nervously on his chair. He recognized that smell! Bacon!

 

Sally returned and placed the bacon and eggs on his plate, encouraging him to start eating. Remy quickly glanced at the older man to see if he was allowed to eat it and after Worthington nodded his approval, he dug in.

 

Remy's head jerked back, hearing Warren's door open. He purposefully avoided staring at the door and ignored Warren as the older boy made his way over to the table. Pretending to be seriously interested in his bacon and eggs, he tried hard not to feel nervous.

 

Warren sat down on his chair and wordlessly started eating his breakfast.

 

Remy finally glanced at Warren, and a strange sensation swept through him. It was almost like he shared Warren's misery and he swore that Warren had cried during the night. The blue eyes were swimming.

 

"Warren?" Worthington looked expectedly at his son.

 

Warren sighed demonstratively and placed his utensils on the plate, meeting his father's gaze. "Yes?"

 

"Don't play dumb on me, Warren. You owe Remy an apology."

 

Remy tried to intervene and stop the older man, but Worthington was determined to make Warren apologize. "Ain' necessary, m'sieur."

 

"He can't even speak properly," said Warren with an evil grin. "What possessed you to adopt him?"

 

Worthington's anger was building again. "Warren, I demand you apologize to Remy here."

 

Warren shrugged his shoulders. "I only spoke the truth. I don't want him around and certainly not someone from an adoption agency."

 

"Warren..." Worthington slammed the newspaper on to the table. "Now!"

 

Remy had stopped eating, sensing the power struggle between father and sun. He wasn't sure who'd win and he had no desire to find out. "M'sieur, ain' dat bad..."

 

But the older man's eyes held Warren's firm and in the end the boy gave in. "I apologize," said Warren without any real commitment.

 

Remy saw that the older man wasn't really satisfied with the apology and wanted to keep the situation from getting worse. "I accept, Warren. C'est bien." Now that he had accepted the apology, Worthington had to do the same. Warren shot him a diabolical look and he cringed under its intensity. The older boy clearly didn't want him here and he wondered if it was a wise move to stay anyway, but what was the alternative? Going back to Bourbon Street? No, he'd rather endure Warren's nasty attitude.

 

Worthington realized that Remy had played him, but allowed it, glad to have solved the situation. "Warren, I want you to show Remy around the house. Later, Sally will take you boys shopping. Remy needs new clothes and maybe there are some things you need as well." He looked Warren in the eyes, making sure his son would behave.

 

"Yes, father." Warren's eyes burned.

 

Remy swallowed hard and found that his appetite was gone. Warren was going to make his life hell!

 

###

 

Warren hated being Remy's tour guide. Why couldn't Sally or one of the other servants show the mutie around? "Down here are the kitchen, two guest rooms and dad's pool room." Raising his hand, he pointed to his right. "But dad's room is off limits to you." The red and black eyes that hesitantly locked with his already showed pain and insecurity. It was only a matter of time before Remy would beg his father to send him back to the adoption agency.

 

"Sally's room's here and the other servants occupy rooms in this corridor as well. Maybe you can make yourself useful around here." Warren turned left and climbed the stairs back to the living room.

 

"Are we still in N'Arlings?"

 

"N'Arlings?" Warren repeated the word, mocking the way Remy pronounced it. "Yes, we are still in New Orleans, but knowing dad we'll be packing and leaving within the next few weeks."

 

"Why leave?" Remy looked about, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

 

"Dad's always traveling from one place to the other. He never stays long." He just hoped that his father would take him with him when he moved to the next city. He didn't want to end up baby sitting the mutie.

 

"You hate me, why?"

 

Hearing Remy's blunt question stopped Warren in his tracks. Mocking the younger boy, he laughed. "What do you think? I don't want to share my father with you, nor his money or his power. He's my dad. I don't know what kind of trick you pulled on him, but it won't work on me!" Remy's hurt expression didn't stop his tirade. "You know you don't belong here. You're a mutant! Why don't you just leave me alone?" Warren was getting angry now. "I don't want you here!"

 

Remy swallowed convulsively, turned and ran. Warren laughed. "Yeah, run, but you can't hide. I'm going to make your life miserable until you leave of your own free will!"

 

###

 

Remy unwillingly slammed the door behind him and headed for the bed, sagging down on the soft mattress. Maybe he was wrong and he couldn't deal with Warren's nasty behavior. Maybe staying was the wrong thing to do. Maybe Bourbon Street was his destiny and he should return there.

 

Warren's hate was palpable and he could even sense it in here, no matter what distance separated them, the hate never left. Why did Warren hate him like that? Warren didn't even know him!

 

"Remy? It's Sally. Can I come inside?"

 

Remy quickly wiped away his tears, hoping in vain that his eyes hadn't grown red. He didn't want anyone to know that he had been crying. "Oui, you can come inside." Remy composed himself and got to his feet again. Sally slowly approached him and he read concern in her eyes. "Somet'in' wron'?"

 

"I'm taking you shopping, did you forget?"

 

"Don' need to go shoppin'." He didn't plan on staying here when Warren hated him.

 

"Come on, sweetie, you need clothes."

 

Realizing that she wouldn't give in, Remy gingerly looked at her. "Is Warren comin' alon'?"

 

"Oh, is that the problem? I should have known that Warren would try to make your life miserable. No, Warren isn't coming along. It's just you and me. Is that okay?" She gave him a dazzling smile.

 

"I guess it is..." Remy returned the smile somewhat hesitantly. Seeing Sally's genuine affection for him, he reached out and curled his fingers around hers. He wasn't sure he could deal with Warren's hate, but Sally's affection made it harder to just leave like that. Only time would tell if he could survive Warren's hatred.

 

###

 

At the mall, Remy relaxed marginally. Now that Warren wasn't around the tension seeped from his bones and he concentrated on Sally, who dragged him from one store to the next. A few times he tried to tell Sally that he didn't need all this stuff. A pair of jeans, some underwear, shirts and decent shoes were all he craved, but Sally hardly listened.

 

"Don't be silly, sweetie. Mister Worthington told me to buy anything you might need and we'd better take advantage of that."

 

Remy resigned himself to her buying frenzy and was relieved when she sat him down in a bistro to get them something to eat and drink. At least she was giving him a small breather!

 

"What would you like to eat? Sandwiches?"

 

Remy nodded his head. "Oui, please."

 

"And what do you want to drink?"

 

"Juice?" Since tasting the OJ he was developing a fondness for it and who knew how long he would be in the position to drink it? If Warren succeeded in to pestering him out of the Worthington household he would be back on the streets and juice would be the last thing on his mind.

 

"I'll be back in a moment, now don't wander off, Remy."

 

Sally left their table, headed for the counter, not minding one bit that this was self service. Remy watched her walk away, then stared at the pile of plastic bags next to him. Mister Worthington would be mad when he learned how much money she had spent on him!

 

Curiously, his hand found its way in to one of the bags and he fumbled the warm and soft pajamas Sally had bought him. A smile surfaced on his face. Sally seemed to genuinely care about him! That was a first.

 

"What are you doing here, boy?"

 

Remy recognized the voice instantly and his body froze. Shaking, he didn't dare look up at the driver of the Mercedes who had paid for his services on a regular basis. He didn't want to see the john, didn't want to be reminded of his life on Bourbon Street and yet here he was!

 

"Are you here with a customer, Remy? If not, you can earn some money right now."

 

He still didn't look at the john, focusing on the pajamas and praying that Sally was still at the counter. "Go 'way, I ain' workin' no more. Leave me 'lone."

 

"Oh, I don't buy that, Remy. Did you find yourself a sugar daddy?"

 

The man's amused laughter caused shivers to travel down his spine. "Go 'way! I don' want her to see you!" Merde, Sally was making her way back and she had already discovered the man at their table. Remy finally made eye contact and flinched. "Just go 'way!"

 

The john shrugged. "You know where to find me in case you change your mind. You just missed out on one hundred bucks, boy."

 

Remy lowered his eyes, thankful that the john had left his table, but had it been in time? How much had Sally heard and would she be able to put all the pieces of the puzzle together?

 

"Remy, who was that man? I didn't like him." Sally placed the tray on the table and handed Remy his sandwich. "You shouldn't talk to strangers; some of them can't be trusted."

 

Remy laughed bitterly, then quickly covered his mouth with his hand, realizing Sally was giving him an odd look. "Sorry..."

 

"Remy, I want the truth." Sally stared at him, not allowing him to pull away. "Why did he say that you missed out on one hundred bucks?"

 

"Can' tell you." He had promised mister Worthington to keep quiet about his past.

 

"Remy, you don't have to lie to me. I like you and I want to help, but when you start telling me lies..."

 

Remy sighed. "M'sieur Worthington will be mad wit' me for tellin' you."

 

"I can handle mister Worthington," Sally assured him. "Now tell me what's going on."

 

Remy flinched when she placed her hand on his, soothingly rubbing his knuckles. "I don' come from no adoption agency."

 

Sally nodded once. "I thought as much. Where do you come from, Remy?"

 

"I lived on de streets, on Bourbon Street."

 

"That's no place for a boy your age!" Sally rubbed the tiny fingers, which promptly started to shake. "What were you doing there? Where were your parents?"

 

"I was tryin' to survive, Sally. Got no parents to take care of me. Needed money to buy food and a place to sleep."

 

"What?" Sally's jaw dropped. "But Bourbon Street... It's New Orleans' red light district!"

 

Remy's courage failed him and he couldn't speak the words that would reveal his past as a hustler.

 

Sally nervously licked her lips. "Remy, what did you do on Bourbon Street?"

 

"Made money by... by... Older men like young boys and..." Sally's fingers around his tensed and he involuntarily looked up at her. "I'm sorry, didn't wanna..."

 

"No, don't apologize, sweetie." Sally composed herself again. "I thought something was terrible wrong when you locked your bedroom door last night. The way you looked at me before I left... It's beyond words..." Sally pushed a stray lock behind Remy's ear and held his gaze. "And that man..."

 

"He's a john, paid me to... You know what dey want, please don' make me say it." Feeling ashamed and embarrassed, he wished the floor would open and swallow him.

 

Sally sighed deeply. "Remy, does mister Worthington know about this?"

 

"Oui, he found me on Bourbon Street." Remy wondered why she was still holding his hand and not pushing him away. People didn't like finding out what he had done to survive, calling him a mutant whore instead. "Mais you can' tell him I told you, we made a deal..."

 

"Sweetie, you need to talk about this. Maybe a counselor can help you work through everything..."

 

Remy resolutely shook his head. "Don' wanna talk 'bout dis." He wanted to bury it deep inside his soul, never to encounter it again.

 

"But that won't stop the pain," said Sally, saddened. "But maybe you need time to realize that."

 

"Can I finish my sandwich now?" Remy desperately wanted to get away from their current topic.

 

"Sure you can, sweetie, and here's your juice."

 

The compassionate expression on Sally's face almost made it impossible for him to swallow the bite he had taken out of his sandwich. For the first time in his life it felt like someone really cared about him!

 

###

 

Sally suddenly realized that Remy wasn't at her side anymore. They had left the bistro and were heading for the parking lot, and Remy had been close, never letting her out of his sight.

 

"Remy?" She turned about, searching her surroundings, hoping to locate the boy who had quickly found a way in to her heart. After only a few days she had already started to care deeply about him.

 

Her agitation vanished when she found him staring at a shopping window featuring stuffed animals. Although Remy was wearing dark glasses to shield him from unfriendly looks, she swore she saw a red gleam beneath the glasses. His hands almost caressed the glass they were pressed against and his fingertips smoothly glided over the glass. He's almost drooling, she thought amused and wondered what had captivated the boy's attention like that.

 

She made her way over to him and searched the stuffed animals. Which one had drawn his attention or was it the sheer quantity that was taking Remy aback? Now that she knew his history she almost knew for certain that he had never had toys or stuffed animals.

 

"Remy?" She came to a halt behind him and rested her right hand on his shoulder. "Do you like them?" Remy looked up at her and she distinctly noted the delighted expression on his face.

 

"Never knew dere are so many of dem..."

 

His glance drifted away from her and back to the stuffed animals. Sally smiled and quickly decided on a game plan. "Do you like them all or one in particular?" Remy wavered and his glance shifted from the stuffed animals to her and back again. For some elusive reason he seemed intimidated so Sally went down on her heels to be level with him. "Remy?"

 

"De turtle..." Remy pointed at the brown turtle lying on top of all the other stuffed animals.

 

 

Sally's eyes found the stuffed animal and she nodded her head. "He's cute." The turtle was made of all sorts of brown materials, had a small tongue and his eyes were orange and black. "But he's swivel-eyed. It looks like he's staring at its nose." She had to admit that it was the cutest one among the toys.

 

Remy nodded eagerly. "Cute, oui..." A sigh escaped his lips. Staring at the floor, he suddenly seemed depressed.

 

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Sally frowned. His mood had been ecstatic, happy, and now he seemed to be fighting his tears. Remy wrapped his skinny arms around his waist and looked awfully lost and alone to her. Determinedly, she got to her feet again, folded one arm around his shoulders and steered him inside.

 

"What are you doin'?" Remy seemed alarmed, almost trying to break away from her.

 

Sally guided him toward the pile of toys, took hold of the turtle and placed it in Remy's arms. All resistance suddenly melted away. Remy's arms closed around it and he pressed it close to his chest. He was softly murmuring to the turtle, but she couldn't decipher his words.

 

She left him standing there, hugging the turtle, walked over to the counter and paid for the toy. When she returned to him, Remy hadn't moved at all. Briefly she wished she could see the expression in his eyes. "He's yours, sweetie. He's a gift, from me to you..."

 

Remy looked up, mouth agape. "What?"

 

"He's yours. He needs a name though." She folded her arm around his shoulders once more and they left the toy store.

 

"Mine? A name?" Stunned, Remy looked up at her.

 

"Yes, he's yours now, sweetie." She quickly checked the time. "We have to head home now. Dinner will be served in one hour." Studying him, she noticed the stray tear that flowed down Remy's cheek.

 

###

 

Warren glared at Sally and Remy while they carried several bags to the boy's room. He felt envious of all the attention Remy was getting from Sally. His father paid her to look after him, not a mutant! And now dad's spending all this money on the little brat. It's not fair. He should be spending time with me and now I have to share him with the mutie. What possessed dad to take in a mutant?

 

Seated on the couch, pretending to be reading the newspaper's business section, he kept a close eye on Remy, who was dragging a ridiculous looking turtle around with him. Remy seemed unwilling to let go of the toy for even one second. He's a baby, needs a stuffed toy to make him feel safe...

 

Warren watched the servants set the table, and realized it was almost dinner time. He returned to his room, took a brief shower and changed into clean clothes. Looking his best, he hoped to attract his father's attention. He had even studied the business news and hoped he would impress his dad with his newly found knowledge.

 

A few minutes later, he walked into the living room again and approached the dinner table. Apparently Remy had changed into his new clothes, wearing jeans which fitted him perfectly and a brown sweater. He had discarded the sun glasses and sat motionless at the dinner table. Looking closely, Warren realized that the turtle was sitting on Remy's lap, almost hidden from view. That's perfect, I can make fun of him for being a baby later, ha!

 

His dad joined them, seated himself and nodded approvingly as the servants served the food. "Italian?"

 

"Yes, sir." The servant placed the Italian dish in front of his employer and served the children as well. Leaving the living room, he closed the door behind him.

 

It was time to play some games. Warren tasted the dish and as his dad seemed to like it, he pretended to approve as well. "The Dow Jones Index has gone up four points today," he remarked, hoping to impress his dad.

 

Worthington nodded absentmindedly, staring at Remy instead. "Don't you like Italian food, Remy?" Remy was merely staring at the food, not eating it.

 

"Was waitin' for you to tell me it's bien to start eatin'," whispered Remy, feeling insecure. Warren was giving him dirty looks and he was just waiting for the older boy to make some spiteful remarks.

 

"Of course you can start eating." Worthington frowned. "You don't need permission to eat, Remy."

 

"Merci, m'sieur." Remy let go of the turtle to reach for the fork and the toy dropped on to the floor with a soft thud.

 

"What was that?" Still frowning, Worthington bowed forward and found the turtle on the floor.

 

"It's his," sneered Warren. "I guess he needs a security blanket. He's still a baby!"

 

Worthington shot him an irritated glare and Warren quickly shut up; he recognized that expression. His dad wasn't very pleased. He almost apologized, but bit his lip. Involuntarily, he looked at Remy, finding the boy frozen on his chair. Well, at least his remark had hit bull's eye!

 

"Warren, Remy's a few years younger than you are. It's only normal for him to have toys and stuffed animals, or do I have to remind you of Hoppy?"

 

Warren flushed. Hoppy...

 

"Hoppy?" Uncertain if he was allowed to speak, Remy looked from Worthington to Warren. "Hoppy?"

 

Worthington grinned. "Hoppy was Warren's favorite stuffed animal. It was a huge, white, rabbit with long, fluffy ears."

 

Warren's flush deepened and he glared at his dinner companions. "Not now," he begged his father.

 

Worthington shrugged. "It's the truth. You took that rabbit everywhere you went..."

 

"That was in the past," snapped Warren. "I don't carry it around anymore. I don't even have it anymore!" After realizing what a stupid picture he and the rabbit made, he had asked Sally to destroy it, but at nights when his dad was away he still longed for the fluffy toy. At night he had cuddled it when no one else had cuddled him. He had talked to it, imagining it would answer him, had carried entire conversations with it; it had become a substitute for the parental love he missed so badly.

 

"Hoppy?" Somehow Remy sensed Warren's longing, his regret that he had thrown the toy away. "I like de name," he offered, trying to show Warren that he didn't hold a grudge against the older boy.

 

Warren's hands turned into fists beneath the table. The last thing he wanted was Remy's sympathy. He ate in silence, watching his dad closely. Worthington ate in a hasty manner and Warren's heart contracted, already knowing what would follow.

 

"Son, I need to leave for a short trip to Europe. One of our companies is in trouble and we might have to let some people go."

 

"When will you be back?" Warren fought the tears that were building in his eyes. He didn't want his dad to leave! Then he would be all alone again!

 

"I hope within the week." Worthington placed his utensils on the empty plate. "I trust you'll look after Remy when I'm gone."

 

Warren gritted his teeth, but nodded. He desperately wanted his father's attention and approval. He also noticed the shivers that moved through Remy's body. The mutie wasn't looking forward to spending a week with him alone. He knows I hate him... realized Warren with a shock.

 

Remy quickly continued eating and Warren leaned back, wondering how much pestering it would take to rid himself of the mutant nuisance.

 

###

 

Remy watched Warren say goodbye to his father. In a strange way, he wished he was part of that little scene as well. It would have been great to have a father as well, someone to take care of him and make sure he was fine. However, the look in Warren's eyes puzzled him. It almost looked like hate, desperation, longing, all mixed in to one.

 

He shivered, trying to shake the ominous feeling. Warren was probably sad because his father was going away, but the older boy had to know how much he was loved and that his father would never desert him.

 

Dragging his turtle with him, he settled on the couch. He distracted himself by trying to think up a name. Charlie, no... Eyeballs, no, that wasn't it either... Fluffy, he liked that one, but it didn't fit the turtle... Mon Dieu, this was harder than he had thought!

 

He checked it out from all angles, trying to think of a suitable name. Then he noticed the tiny tail...Tails...Yes, that suited the turtle. Tails it was!

 

"You look ridiculous holding that stuffed animal!"

 

Warren's sharp tone shook him from his warm, fuzzy feelings and he was pulled back to real life. Holding Tails close, he tried to shield the turtle from Warren's view. It didn't matter to him that Tails wasn't alive, Tails belonged with him and he had to protect it. "I like him..."

 

Warren shook his head. "You're way too old for that!"

 

Remy quickly strengthened his hold on Tails when Warren tried to grab the stuffed animal. "Don'! Don' take him 'way from me!" Remy held on tighter, unwilling to give up without a fight first. On the streets he had learned to fight dirty and he wouldn't hesitate to use his knowledge to get away from Warren.

 

"Warren? Remy? What's going on here?" Sally stepped out from the kitchen and studied them.

 

"Nothing, Sally."

 

Warren gave him a dirty look and Remy knew better than to tell on the older boy. "Rien, Sally. Everyt'in's bien."

 

Sally cocked her head, obviously not believing them, but she disappeared back in to the kitchen nonetheless.

 

"I don't want you here, mutie. You don't deserve to be here." Warren glared furiously.

 

Remy flinched; the words carried an almost physical blow and he crawled away from Warren, until he nearly fell of the couch.

 

"Don't think you can fool me. I know you're only after my dad's money and although he's spending his money on you right now, that doesn't mean you get to keep it. Even that stupid turtle belongs to my dad and not to you!"

 

The venomous words made Remy nauseous. Looking up at Warren, he wondered what he had done wrong. "Why do you hate me so much?"

 

"I want you gone. My dad belongs to me and I don't share!" Warren turned on his heels and marched to his room, where he slammed the door shut.

 

Remy cringed, realizing he wouldn't be here much longer. One way or the other Warren would find a way to get rid of him.

 

"Remy? I know it's hard to believe, but Warren doesn't mean it that way." Sally had heard the last few words and quickly joined Remy on the couch.

 

Remy fled in to her arms when she opened them for him and he rested his head against her shoulder. Tails was still in his arms and he rocked the turtle slowly, reassuring himself that at least Sally wanted him here. "Don' believe dat. He really wants me gone." He could see it in Warren's eyes and even more mysteriously, he felt it.

 

"Warren's mother died a few years ago and his father's away most of the time. He's a very lonely boy and now he feels like he has to compete for his father's attention. He's reacting the only way he knows how. I'm not saying he's right, I think that what he's doing is wrong, but he's angry and afraid." Sally smiled reassuringly. "Feeling any better?"

 

Remy wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape his eyes. "Feel better when you're 'round, Sally."

 

"It's good to hear that, Remy. Now, did you eat enough or are you still hungry?"

 

"I'm stuffed," whispered Remy, grinning. A huge yawn took him by surprise and he smiled apologetically at Sally.

 

"It's bedtime for you, sweetie." Sally got to her feet and waited for Remy to slide off the couch as well.

 

Remy allowed her to fuss over him when she took him to his room, but when she started to strip him of his clothes, he backed away from her. "Can do dat on my own! Ain' a baby, even if Warren says so!"

 

Sally took a step back and watched him. "Change into your pajamas and I'll be back with some hot milk. It'll help you sleep."

 

She left and Remy used that opportunity to slip into his warm pajamas. He quickly moved beneath the covers and pressed deeply into the mattress. Of course Tails was still in his arms and he arranged the blankets around the turtle.

 

"Here, sweetie, drink this." Sally sat down on the bed and handed him the mug. "Be careful, it's still hot."

 

Remy sipped slowly. He found himself smiling, realizing no one else had ever giving him hot milk or stayed to tuck him in. "I like you, Sally," he admitted awkwardly.

 

"I like you too, young man." Sally took hold of the nearly empty mug and tucked the blankets in around the boy's form. "I hope you'll have some sweet dreams, Remy." She even leaned in closer and placed a kiss on his brow.

 

Remy closed his eyes, savoring the moment and feeling her affection for him. Hugging Tails closer, he dozed off, the smile never leaving his face.

 

###

 

( The turtle's real name is Aura and she features in a 3D animation movie in a park here in Holland, called "The Efteling." I just bought her yesterday.)

 

###

 

Remy was sleeping peacefully, but woke when he heard unidentifiable sounds coming from the living room. Not used to having the luxury of his own room, he needed a moment to identify his whereabouts. He pressed deeper in to the mattress and checked the time. It's was three AM, midst of the night. Hugging Tails close, he listened, trying to make sense of the sounds he was hearing. It almost sounded like someone crying. Unable to stay in bed, he pushed back the blankets and tiptoed to the doorway. He pushed the door ajar and peeked into the living room, which was surprising empty, but the muffled sounds were still present.

 

Remy grabbed the morning robe Sally had bought him, slipped in to it and soundlessly moved to the living room, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound. It's comin' from Warren's room, mais I can' believe he'd be cryin'...

 

Remy covered the distance to Warren's room and listened at the door. The sounds were definitely coming from in there! What was he to do now? He tried the door handle and it gave in, the door opened and he peeked inside. Warren's blond hair gave away his whereabouts and Remy concentrated on the older boy crying in bed. He wished he dared reach out and comfort Warren, but he distrusted the older boy who obviously disliked him.

 

The crying continued and Remy took a step closer toward the bed. It was obvious by now that Warren was sobbing in his sleep. Maybe a nightmare had a tight hold on the older boy? What can I do? I don' even dare gettin' close to him. When he finds me here he'll be mad... But, drawn closer, his feet carried him to the bed until he was standing next to it. Hesitantly, he raised his right hand as something urged him in to action. He had cried himself to sleep countless nights and he couldn't stand back and let Warren be miserable. If only he knew what this was about?

 

"Hoppy? Hoppy...?"

 

Remy's eyes widened. Hoppy was the name of Warren's former stuffed animal. Staring at Tails, he realized how safe he felt having it close. Maybe Warren had felt the same way about Hoppy and now missed the toy? Facing a dilemma, he continued to stare at the turtle.

 

"Hoppy?"

 

Remy grimaced. Mon Dieu, he had to help, even if it meant giving away Tails. It looked like Warren needed the stuffed animal more than he did. Gently, he slipped the turtle in to Warren's arms, realizing that although the older boy always acted tough he was hurting as well. Sally had told him that Warren wanted his father's love and attention and m'sieur Worthington had left only a few hours ago. Maybe Warren felt abandoned? He knew that feeling only too well.

 

His grimace changed in to a sad smile when Warren hugged the turtle close, making pleased noises. Too bad they didn't have a second Tails. Now he was going back to bed alone... Head bowed in defeat, Remy left Warren's room, closed the door behind him and returned to his own room, where he listlessly slipped between the covers, wishing he was still holding Tails. He already missed his soft companion.

 

Reaching for the second pillow, he enfolded it in his arms and pressed it close to his chest. It took him a long time to fall asleep, but in the end he dozed off again.

 

###

 

When Warren woke the next morning, something felt off, but he couldn't label the sensation. Still sleepy, he stretched and yawned, trying to chase away the last remnants of sleep. Opening his eyes, he stared at the alarm clock. He had woken just a few minutes before the alarm would go off; his biological clock never failed him. Raising his hand, he reached to switch it off, not eager to hear the annoying alarm. Suddenly, he froze, feeling something warm and soft against his chest. Looking down his eyes grew big, finding Remy's turtle resting against his chest.

 

"What's this? I can't believe... It can't be! He sneaked in to my room to..." Growing silent, he frowned. Why would the boy leave his stuffed animal behind? Why leave proof behind? The damn alarm echoed through the room and he killed the annoying sound by switching it off. Sitting upright in bed, he stared at the turtle. Why would Remy leave it with him? The boy had seemed very fond of the turtle.

 

He didn't like this one bit. He didn't know why Remy had left the turtle behind and he wasn't looking forward to finding out. He also had to decide what to do with the turtle. He briefly considered throwing it in the waste basket, but memories of Hoppy stopped him. Although he would never openly admit it, he had loved the stuffed rabbit and missed it. Remy probably felt the same.

 

"Warren! It's time to get up. Breakfast's in ten!"

 

"I'm already awake, Sally!" Warren stared at the turtle, then placed it on his bed. First he needed a cold shower to clear his head.

 

Five minutes later he left the bathroom to get dressed and found that the turtle was still sitting on his bed, staring at him. Now that no one was around, he could admit that the turtle was cute and maybe he would have chosen it as well, had he been a few years younger. Unable to resist temptation, he rubbed behind the stuffed animal's eyes, surprised at the soft touch.

 

Realizing he had to return it to Remy, he quickly dressed and picked the toy up. "How do I do this? I can't simply walk in to his room and give it to him. I don't want him to think I care..." Thinking everything over, he decided to use Sally for his plan.

 

He left his room and entered the living room, pleased to find that no one was there. He marched in to the kitchen and sat down. Although the kitchen wasn't as luxurious as the living room, he liked it better. It possessed a nice sense of closeness, intimacy. "Sally?" After calling for her, he sat the turtle on the table and waited for Sally to serve him breakfast.

 

She blinked, seeing the turtle, but didn't ask about it so Warren decided to take the initiative. "I found it in the living room. Remy probably lost it."

 

Sally nodded her head, placed his full plate in front of him and looked at him. "Remy will join you in a few minutes. He had a hard time getting out of bed, the poor thing was probably exhausted."

 

Another sting of jealousy hit Warren. Sally was supposed to worry and fuss over him, not Remy! "He just wants your attention, Sally. You shouldn't pamper him like that!"

 

Sally smiled saddened. "You don't have to be jealous, Warren. You have a father, you live in luxury and what does Remy have? It wouldn't hurt you to be nice to him. He's a good kid."

 

Warren shrugged and started eating breakfast. He didn't plan on being nice to Remy, but he did plan on finding out what Remy had been doing in his room late at night!

 

###

 

Remy slowly made his way in to the kitchen, letting the scents and fragrances guide his nose. He remained standing at the door, finding that Warren was already eating his breakfast. Seeing Tails sitting on the table made his heart beat faster. Why had Warren brought the turtle here? Shyly, he cleared his throat, hoping Sally was also around. Being alone with Warren was something he wanted to avoid. Suddenly Warren looked up and the expression in the older boy's eyes was unreadable. "Can I come 'side...?"

 

Warren hesitated and in that same time Sally joined them. "Of course you can, sweetie. Have a seat and I'll bring you breakfast. Is sunny side up okay for you?"

 

Overwhelmed, Remy sat down and nodded. How she prepared the eggs didn't matter. Just the fact that he could eat another meal was sheer heaven. On the streets he had gone for days without a decent meal. "Bien, Sally."

 

Before she left to prepare his breakfast she walked over to him and placed Tails on his lap. "Warren found him in the living room. I thought you had it with you when you went asleep last night?"

 

Busted, Remy thought, slightly upset. He tried to think up a plausible explanation and even looked to Warren for help.

 

"Maybe he's a sleepwalker?" suggested Warren after finishing his breakfast.

 

Sally frowned. "Is that it? Remy, do you walk in your sleep?"

 

Grateful that he had been given a way out, Remy eagerly nodded his head. "Oui, did dat before." He didn't like lying, but this way neither of them would end up embarrassed. He wondered if Warren wanted to address the matter once they were alone. Maybe it was best to make sure they weren't alone then. But suddenly Sally was gone, had disappeared in to the adjoining kitchen. He stared at the table, trying to ignore Warren.

 

"What were you doing in my room last night? It's off limits to you in case you didn't know that yet. I don't want you in there when I'm asleep."

 

Remy flinched, and wondered what to say. Should he tell Warren that the older boy had been crying? "I heard sounds."

 

"Sounds? That doesn't mean you can walk in there."

 

"You were... havin' a nightmare," Remy said in the end. He wasn't sure addressing the crying was a good idea.

 

"A nightmare?" Warren seemed puzzled momentarily. "And so what? You could have called Sally. You didn't have to go in to my room!"

 

"You were callin' out for Hoppy," mumbled Remy, barely audible. He caught Warren's sharp intake of breath, betraying the older boy's shock. "So I gave you Tails."

 

"Tails?" Warren repeated the name in a puzzled tone. "You named him Tails?"

 

"You named yours Hoppy!" Remy was beginning to feel defensive. "Jus' wanted to help." Peeking at Warren, he realized the expression in the other boy's eyes had changed. It was a mixed sensation of irritation and disbelief.

 

"Don't do it ever again. Don't you dare ever entering my room without permission first."

 

Remy nodded his head. "Bien." He wasn't going to fight over this. "I won' do it 'gain." But could he really let Warren sob in his sleep?

 

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," said Warren. "Don't mention it to Sally or my dad when he gets back."

 

"Bien, will keep quiet..." Remy heard footfalls and realized Sally was coming back. "Merci for givin' Tails back to me. Must have lost him when sleepwalkin'." Sally gave him a thoughtful look when she entered, but seemed to buy the explanation. His appetite had left and he stared at the plate miserably. Picking up his knife and fork, he forced himself to start eating.

 

###

 

 

Remy stared at the white haired lady whom Sally introduced as Misses Fischer, their private tutor. Warren was already checking his homework, making sure he had completed all assignments, but Remy felt frozen. The elderly lady stared at him from behind thick glasses which balanced precariously on her nose. Her black/grey clothes made her even older and more authoritative.

 

"Mister Worthington told me I had a new pupil, but I had no idea you're this young." She studied him and seemed displeased with what she found. "Sit down and open your grammar book on page 1. Start reading and try to solve the first exercise. In the meantime I'll have a look at Warren's work."

 

Remy collapsed on the chair and stared helplessly at the thick book in front of him. His hands shook and cold sweat erupted over his entire body. Was there a way out of this? Suddenly he felt Warren's eyes on him, and he froze. Mon Dieu, don' let him realize what's happenin'.

 

"He can't read!" Warren laughed triumphantly. "He can't read or write!"

 

Remy cringed, wishing the floor would open and swallow him. He had seldom felt this humiliated before! He briefly considered getting defensive, but he would gain little or nothing, only irritate Warren further.

 

"Is that true, Remy?" asked Misses Fischer. "Is it true what Warren says? You can't read or write?"

 

Depressed, Remy nodded his head. "C'est vrai. I never learned how to read or write. No one ever taught me."

 

A smile appeared on Misses Fischer's face. "Ah, but you speak French?"

 

"Lived in N'arlings my entire life, oui." Feeling miserable, Remy stared at the dancing forms on the white paper in front of him. Discouraged, he closed the book and started to get to his feet.

 

"Where do you think you're going, Remy?" Misses Fischer stopped him, signaled him to sit down again and placed a different book in front of him. "Look it through and then I want you to tell me in your best French what you saw."

 

His heart pounded fearing another failure, but Remy opened the book as ordered. He sighed relieved, finding only pictures in the book. "Oui, can do dat, I t'ink."

 

"Good boy." Misses Fischer concentrated on Warren's assignments once more and gave Remy some time to recompose himself.

 

Remy caught Warren's look and sensed the older boy's disappointment. Warren had probably hoped that Misses Fischer would make fun of him for being illiterate! Warren would never accept him... Remy sighed, studied the pictures and tried to lock out Warren's dislike of him.

 

###

 

As the days passed by, Warren's pestering grew worse. Remy found the door slammed in his face, Warren trying to manipulate Sally and Misses Fischer and he grew discouraged, realizing he was fighting a lost battle. Sooner or later Warren would succeed in chasing him away and then he would be back on the streets again. So he tried to save the little money Sally gave him to buy sweets or other things he fancied. The five weekly dollars disappeared under his pillow and other items found their way in to his room as well; canned food that would still be eatable in a few days, shampoo, shower gel, the occasional towel. Everything went under his bed.

 

Sometimes he suspected that Sally had found the secret supply under his bed, but she didn't say a single word about it and he continued to collect things, carefully hiding them from Warren, who he avoided completely.

 

Absentmindedly he sat on his bed, wondering how much longer he would be able to bear Warren's pestering when the door opened and Sally stepped inside. He liked her, he really did, and he would greatly miss her once he was back on the streets again. But she was only the housekeeper and Warren and his dad were in charge. There was little she could do to improve his personal situation.

 

"Salut, Sally." He smiled, trying to make her believe that everything was all right.

 

"Remy..." said Sally, sighing. She sat down beside him and tried to catch his glance. "You don't look happy."

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Why are you here?"

 

"Mister Worthington will return home later tonight."

 

Remy wasn't sure how he felt about that. Maybe Warren would behave with his father close? The opposite could happen as well: Warren could double his efforts to get rid of him to have his father to himself. Sally's right hand settled on his head and stroked his hair. Looking up at her, he wished he could stay. He would have loved having her for his mother, but that would never happen. "Merci for tellin' me, Sally."

 

"You're welcome, sweetie. I'll call you when he wants to talk to you." Sally got to her feet after gently squeezing his shoulder.

 

Feeling miserable, Remy stared at the floor after she was gone. He should take inventory of the things he had managed to collect; be prepared in case he had to leave in a hurry. His instincts told him that Warren wouldn't rest before he was out of the picture.

 

###

 

"Dad! You're back! I didn't think you'd make it back until tomorrow!" Thrilled, Warren ran toward his dad who opened his arms to catch him. The smile his dad gave him made Warren smile in return. He had really missed his dad. A few weeks ago, when he had still been at boarding school, he hadn't believed he could miss his father this much, only seeing his dad occasionally. Now that his dad was around most of the time, he realized how badly he needed him. He folded his arms around his father's form and held on tight when the older Worthington lifted him. Losing contact with the floor, he grinned, holding on. "You're back!"

 

"It almost looks like you're happy to see me again!" joked Worthington. "It's only been a week!"

 

Warren shook his head. "Seemed like an eternity." Mostly because the mutie's still around. I still didn't manage to get rid of him! He savored his father's embrace and hoped it would never end. "Did you bring me a present? You were in Europe, weren't you? London? Paris?"

 

"London, yes." Worthington opened his brief case and uncovered a gift wrapped package. "Here, this is for you, son."

 

Excitedly, Warren ripped away the paper and opened the carton box in his hands. A miniature replica of Big Ben appeared and so did a smile on his face. Two years ago he had spend the Christmas holidays in London with his dad when he had been tied up in business meetings and the Big Ben had been his favorite attraction. Back then Sally had taken him on a tour of the capital. "I love it! Thanks, dad!" Embracing his dad again, he finally felt happy, but his father's next words took away all warm feelings.

 

"Where's Remy?" Worthington looked about, searching for the boy.

 

Warren gritted his teeth and his fingers grew into claws around the Big Ben miniature. He wanted to tell his dad that the mutie was too scared to meet them, but held back, knowing his dad wouldn't like hearing it. "I don't know," he said eventually, shrugging his shoulders. "Why don't you tell me about your trip instead?"

 

"No, I want to see Remy first." Worthington frowned. "Did something happen while I was away?"

 

"Not that I know of," said Warren, pretending innocence. He grabbed his father's left arm and began pulling him toward the couch. "Tell me what happened in London!"

 

Worthington sighed, gave in, but called for Sally at the same time.

 

"Yes, sir?" Sally appeared, smiling marginally.

 

"Where's Remy?" Worthington sat down, momentarily ignoring Warren.

 

"In his room."

 

"Please get him. I want to talk to him." Worthington looked at Warren and frowned, seeing the dark expression in his son's eyes.

 

Warren quickly masked his feelings. He would act his part to make sure that his father didn't get suspicious. "Thanks for the replica of Big Ben. I'll find a special place for it in my room."

 

Worthington nodded absentmindedly, studying Remy, who shuffled in to the room.

 

Warren watched everything closely, hoping his dad finally realized how wrong he had been to take in Remy.

 

"Remy, come over here. I got you something as well."

 

Warren realized that Remy was stalling, making his way over to them as slowly as possible. Envious, he looked on as his dad uncovered another gift wrapped box, which his dad put in to the mutie's hand. The envy slowly poisoned him. Remy didn't deserve a present from his father! Remy accepted the package and got on his nerves with removing the paper in a tormenting slow pace. Warren was tempted to jump up from the couch, grab the package and get it over with!

 

Finally the paper was gone, the box open and the present revealed. 

 

"M'sieur? What is it?" Remy looked up at Worthington, obviously confused.

 

"You give it a little shake," explained Worthington. He placed his hand over Remy's and shook the snow globe. "The little guys inside are guardsmen, they guard the palace and the queen of Britain."

 

It was obvious that Remy had no idea what his dad was talking about and Warren laughed privately, relishing Remy's confusion. Oh, it would only take him a few more days and then Remy would be gone!

 

"Merci, m'sieur, mais you don' have to buy me gifts," said Remy, feeling uncomfortable.

 

"It's just a little souvenir I picked up. Warren always gets something and I just added another one for you." Worthington made a big show out of checking his watch. "It's way past your bedtime, Remy. Sally? Sally! Take the boy to bed." He leaned back and ruffled Warren's hair. "You'd better get some sleep too. Tomorrow I'm taking the two of you sightseeing. You have been here in New Orleans for some weeks, but you haven't seen the city yet."

 

Warren felt pleased, hearing that his dad wanted to spend tomorrow with him. The only problem was Remy. He didn't want the mutie to spoil his fun. Maybe it was time to make a real effort to get rid of the brat.

 

###

 

Remy stared at the snow globe, but then put it on the nightstand, favoring Tails once more. After slipping between the covers he hugged the turtle close, wondering why Worthington had bought him a present. He had seen the venomous look in Warren's eyes and this would only motivate the older boy to be even more awful toward him. Closing his eyes, he wished Worthington had never bought him a present. A stray tear dripped from his cheek and he softly cried himself to sleep.

 

###

 

That night Warren decided that he'd had enough. Remy had to go. Now that his father was back, he wanted him to himself and not share him with a kid he couldn't stand. Completely dressed, he left his bed and sneaked toward the doorway. Remy didn't know it, but he had noticed the collection of items under Remy's bed. The kid was stealing from them and no one stopped him! He had considered telling Sally, but the little brat had already wrapped her around his little finger. He only had one option left; he had to take things in to his own hands and he already knew how to rid himself of Remy.

 

Soundlessly, he sneaked in to his father's study, sat down in the heavy leather chair and opened the drawers. In the bottom drawer he found what he was looking for; his mother's wedding band. After Kathryn's death his father had taken the wedding ring with him and kept it there ever since. He took hold of it and slipped it into his pockets. His dad would be mad as hell, finding the ring gone and then discovering it in Remy's room!

 

Stage one was complete. Now he had to wait for Remy to leave his room to hide the ring. His dad looked at the ring and a picture of his wife on a daily basis and it wouldn't be long before he discovered the missing item. Warren grinned; this would work!

 

###

 

The next morning Warren closely monitored Remy's every move and he finally got his chance to sneak inside the boy's room when Sally called Remy in to the kitchen. Looking about, he searched for the best place to hide the ring. In the end, he opted for the bed. He grinned, finding money under Remy's pillow. The brat had managed to steal fifteen dollars so far! He was tempted to take the money with him, but then Remy would become suspicious. Using a one dollar bill, he wrapped the ring in it and placed it back beneath the pillow. Now it was only a matter of time before his dad threw Remy out of their home!

 

###

 

An ominous feeling ate away at Remy. Something was wrong. Warren was being way too nice to him. It almost seemed like the older boy was waiting for something to happen.

 

"Finish your homework," said Sally, overseeing Remy's awkward writing.

 

Misses Fischer had taught him the first three letters of the alphabet and had told him to write them down several times. "I'm tryin', Sally." But he wasn't succeeding at all. The letters were barely recognizable. Her hand suddenly covered his and guided him. A shy smile surfaced on his face. "Merci." At times like these life on the streets was only a memory and he couldn't imagine ever going back there. Even though Warren hated his guts, he felt like he had found a home with Sally. It no longer bothered him that she knew his real history and sometimes, late at night, he found her sitting at his bed chasing away the nightmares.

 

An angry scream made the hair at the back of his neck stand rigid. "Sally?"

 

"That's mister Worthington. I wonder what happened." Sally looked toward the doorway, wondering if she should check on it.

 

"No! It can't be gone! It must be here!"

 

Remy flinched, hearing Worthington's angry tone. What had happened?

 

"Where's her ring?"

 

Remy dropped his pen and followed Sally in to the living area, hiding behind her skirt. He grabbed her hand when she offered it to him and he tried to make eye contact with Warren who was watching Discovery Channel, but he quickly averted his eyes, finding Warren's eyes sparkling with amusement and satisfaction.

 

Worthington stormed into the living room, his eyes angry and he immediately took up pacing.

 

"Mister Worthington, what's wrong?" Sally let go of Remy's hand and approached her employer.

 

"Her ring's gone. Kathryn's ring disappeared."

 

Remy's mind worked quickly, realizing the trap Warren had set up for him. Staring at the older boy, he knew what Warren had done. His cold, sweaty hands revealed his nervousness and he realized there was little he could do. Warren was directing this scene.

 

"Her ring can't be gone," said Sally, thoughtfully. "Maybe it fell from the drawer and it ended up on the floor?"

 

"I searched the room, and the floor," said Worthington, still upset. "The ring's not in the study."

 

"Maybe someone stole it?" Warren hid his smile from Sally and his father when he turned around to smirk at Remy. "I noticed that several things are missing, not just the ring."

 

Remy held his breath. Wringing his hands, his nails dug in to his skin, but he refused to acknowledge the pain. "I ain' a t'ief!"

 

"Why don't we check his room?" suggested Warren. "Remy won't mind, if he's being honest. Then he has nothing to hide."

 

Remy felt the net close around him. He was certain that Warren had hid the ring in his room, but refusing them to search his room equaled a confession and would make him guilty as hell. He really didn't have a choice. His head bowed, he stepped aside to let the grown ups pass by, knowing damn well what they would find.

 

Sally frowned. "Mister Worthington, I don't think Remy stole the ring."

 

"There's only one way to find out," snapped Worthington, marching in to Remy's room. He checked the cupboard, drawers, and then moved on to the bed. Looking beneath it, he frowned, finding stuffed bags with shampoo, shower gel, towels, canned foods. "What's this?"

 

Remy remained silent, knowing he couldn't explain his urge to have an emergency supply close.

 

Worthington took Remy's silence as a confession of guilt and moved on, lifting the pillow as well. "Money?" He grabbed the dollar bills and suddenly the ring dropped onto the floor with a metallic thud. Everyone stared at the ring and Remy's heart contracted. Briefly, he stared at Warren and saw the older boy's pleased expression. "I didn' steal it..."

 

But Worthington waved away his words. "I gave you shelter, food, a family and how do you repay me? You steal from me! You could have asked for the money or any of the other things, but no, you go behind my back and steal my late wife's wedding band. You're grounded for now. You're not to leave your room. Sally, clean everything up and make sure it goes back to where it belongs." Angry, he left the room.

 

Sally, still frowning, looked from Remy to Warren and noticed the pleased grin. "Warren, what did you do?"

 

Warren shrugged his shoulders and gave her an innocent look. "I didn't do anything. I'm not the mutie, the thief, around here. I'm just glad dad found out in time!" Smirking, he left them standing there.

 

"I didn' do it," said Remy in a tiny tone. "Oui, I kept de money you gave me to buy sweets wit', mais I didn' steal de ring! I didn' even know it existed!"

 

Sally sighed. "I believe you, sweetie. This has Warren's handwriting all over it." She cupped his chin in the palm of her hand and lifted his head, making eye contact with him. "I'll talk to mister Worthington."

 

"Merci, Sally, merci for believin' me." It meant a lot to him that she believed him, but deep in his heart he knew that Warren had already succeeded. Worthington thought he was guilty and he doubted Sally could change that.

 

###

 

"Sir, the boy didn't steal the ring," said Sally passionately. "He didn't even know it existed!"

 

"I wish I could believe you, Sally, but I found the ring under his pillow." Worthington felt disappointed; he had hoped that Remy would use the chance he had been given.

 

"Or someone put it there," suggested Sally. "Warren's been feeling jealous ever since you brought Remy home."

 

That got his attention. "Jealous? I thought he'd like having a little brother."

 

"He doesn't want to share you with anyone," pointed Sally out to him. "He's awful toward the boy when you're not around."

 

Worthington sighed. "That wasn't the way I planned it. I brought here Remy because I thought Warren was lonely and could use a companion."

 

Sally licked her lips. "He doesn't come from the adoption agency, does he?"

 

Startled, Worthington looked up.

 

"When I took him to the mall one of his former 'customers' addressed him. Remy told me where he lived before you took him in."

 

"It's true," admitted Worthington. "He was living on the streets when I found him."

 

"What are you going to do? I'm sure Warren set Remy up. He simply wants Remy gone."

 

"I don't know what to do. I'll sleep on it." Worthington leaned back in his chair. "What do you think of Remy?"

 

"I like him a lot. I'm glad you took him in."

 

Worthington nodded, indicating the conversation had come to an end. "I'll let you know what I decide."

 

Sally took the hint and left the room, determined to check on Remy before going to bed herself.

 

###

 

Remy had tears in his eyes when he picked up the plastic bag, which carried a few clothes. Sally had taken the canned goods back to the kitchen and the toiletries had been removed from his room as well. Grabbing Tails, he squeezed it tightly. His eyes caught sight of the snow globe, but he didn't want or need it, and left it standing on the night stand. Looking down, he felt grateful that his clothes were whole. They would keep out the cold for most of the night. First, he had to find a place to sleep and tomorrow he could worry about making some money.

 

Sneaking toward the doorway, he pushed down the handle and stepped into the living area. Light shone from Worthington's study and he tiptoed toward the exit. He wasn't welcome here any longer, had never been welcome here in the first place and it was time to accept that. He couldn't fight Warren for the rest of his life; the older boy would never accept him. Leaving was the only option left.

 

His heart thumped when he closed the door behind him. No more way back. Fighting back his tears, he held on to Tails and descended the stairs. A few minutes later, he stepped on to a deserted street. Merde, he had no idea where he was! This part of New Orleans was unknown to him. Discouraged, he started walking, hanging on to Tails for moral support.

 

###

 

Sally's jaw dropped, finding Remy's room empty. "Oh no!" A quick search of the room revealed that the turtle was gone, along with some of the boy's clothes. Angry with herself for not anticipating his move, she stared at the bed. What could she do? She had no idea where Remy was headed! Turning about, she headed back to mister Worthington's study, who she partly blamed for this situation.

 

He looked up, surprised at her unexpected return. "I said I would talk to you in the morning..."

 

"Remy's gone. His room's empty and some of his clothes gone." Sally glared at him. "He left because you pronounced him guilty. Where can I find him? I can't stand the thought of him being on the streets, unprotected. He's a child!"

 

Worthington slowly got to his feet. "Are you sure he's gone?"

 

"Yes, he even took his favorite toy with him."

 

"Then we have to look for him." He shivered, recalling how scared and distrusting the boy had been when he had found him. "I might know where he went."

 

"Then what are we waiting for?" Sally dashed out of the room to collect her coat.

 

"Dad? What's going on?" Still sleepy, Warren walked in to the study. Using his right hand, he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes.

 

"Remy's run away," explained his father. "Sally and I are going looking for him."

 

Warren shrugged. "Why? He probably went back to the adoption agency."

 

Worthington grew alarmed, hearing Warren's cold tone. Going down on his heels, he took hold of Warren's shoulders and locked eyes with his son. "Listen, Warren. There's no adoption agency. Remy was living on the streets when I found him. He's homeless. Do you have any idea how hard it is for a child his age to survive on his own?"

 

Warren's eyes narrowed. "Huh?"

 

"You heard me, son. Remy doesn't have any parents, no one to look after him. When I found him he was... doing horrible things to survive." He couldn't tell his son that Remy had been selling his body to make money; he wasn't sure a boy Warren's age and with his sheltered upbringing would understand. "Remy was in a lot of pain and I wanted to give him a fair chance."

 

"I don't understand..."

 

"Warren, Remy's out there, on his own with no money, no shelter and God knows what trouble he already got himself in to. Sally and I have to find him. Now go back to bed and try to sleep. Finding Remy will take some time so don't wait up for us." He guided his son back to his bedroom, put him to bed and tucked him in.

 

"We'll find Remy, don't worry about that." After switching off the light, he left the room and joined Sally for their search.

 

###

 

Dazed, Warren switched the lights back on. He stared at the wall with blank eyes, his brow furrowed and trying to make sense of what his dad had just told him. There was no adoption agency? Remy was a homeless street kid and his dad had taken him in to give him a fair chance? Suddenly, guilt began to claw at him. He had assumed Remy would go back to the agency where they would find him a new family. Now things were different. Now Remy was roaming the streets.

 

Sitting upright, his hands changed in to fists. His dad might think him ignorant, but he knew what was going on in the world, knew about the seedy sides of life. Via his computer and the net he had access to the entire world and he left the bed, recalling everything he had read on the net. Young runaways, drug addicts and homeless people usually ended up committing crimes to get their money or... the other option was selling their bodies in return for drugs or money.

 

No, his dad had been lying. No way Remy was an orphan living on the streets. That was a lie! But what if it was true? Then he had sent Remy back in to that seedy world! And why would his dad lie to him? No, it had to be the truth.

 

Gritting his teeth, he admitted that he still hated the mutie, but he couldn't allow Remy roaming the streets like that. His conscience kicked in and he cursed it loudly. Why couldn't he simply lie down and fall asleep again?

 

Sighing, he changed into jeans and sweater and called their chauffeur on the phone. Max was surprised to get orders from the young Worthington, but obeyed. A few minutes later, Warren stepped in to their limousine and told Max to head for the seedier part of town.

 

###

 

"Remy? Is that you?" Claudette, the transvestite, moved closer toward the boy. "You look better than the last time I saw you... You got new clothes on..."

 

Remy cringed. Finding a place to sleep had proven impossible. All shelters were full and the good spots in the deserted building already taken. So he was back on the streets again, dragging Tails and his plastic bag with him. "Salut, Claudette."

 

"Remy, why did you come back?"

 

"Didn' have a choice, mon ami." He squeezed the bag closer to his body, watching expensive cars drive up to them. "I'm hungry, Claudette, need some money."

 

"I wish I had some, but... I used it buy crack a few minutes ago," said Claudette, apologetically.

 

Remy nodded; he knew about the other boy's addiction. His stomach growled angrily and he sighed, staring at the black Mercedes driving up to him. The window was rolled down and he recognized the man. It used to be one of his johns.

 

"Wanna make a hundred bucks, boy?"

 

His legs felt strangely heavy as he made his way over to the car. "Oui, m'sieur, need de money." A hundred bucks meant that the john wanted to fuck and his heart beat wildly, dreading the next minutes, but he needed the money to survive...

 

###

 

Warren stared at the prostitutes in disbelief. He didn't know there were so many of them! Young, old, fat, thin, bold, dressed in leather or just a string of cloth, they all looked at the limousine, giving him a leering grin. He pushed deeper into the comfort of his seat, almost ordering Max to take him out of here, but he had gotten Remy in this situation and he had to get him out again! This was his responsibility.

 

"Warren, I don't think your father would want us here. Why don't I take you home?" Max, the middle aged, concerned chauffeur used the mirror to get a good look at his charge. The boy looked spooked.

 

"No, we're not leaving yet. First we have to find Remy. You know whom I'm talking about?"

 

"The little boy mister Worthington adopted? Yes, I know him."

 

"Then look out for him!" Warren's guilty conscience was getting harder to ignore, telling him he was to blame for Remy's predicament.

 

"Warren? We have a problem..."

 

"What problem? Shit..." Warren recognized his dad's car and realized that his father had recognized the limousine as well.

 

Max stopped and parked the car while Worthington made his way over to them. Warren saw the look on his dad's face and knew he was in trouble. He opened the door and his dad sat down next to him, wordlessly. "I want to help," offered Warren. I didn't know he was homeless."

 

"Warren, son, did you put Kathryn's ring beneath Remy's pillow?"

 

He shivered. "Yes, I did. I wanted him gone."

 

"Why?"

 

"I didn't want to share you with him and I thought he was after our money." Warren's head slumped forward. "I made a mistake."

 

"A grave mistake." Worthington sighed. "What are you doing here? This isn't a place for a young boy. Max should have stopped you."

 

"I want to help find him." Warren felt guilty and wanted to make up for his mistake. "I got carried away. I shouldn't have set him up. I was jealous."

 

"Son, don't you know how much I love you?" Worthington frowned and shook his head. "I know I neglected you since Kathryn died, but it hasn't been exactly easy on me. I'll try to be around more."

Warren managed a smile. "Thanks..." Acting on instinct, he hugged his father, who returned the embrace.

 

"But that doesn't mean you're off the hook, young man. You manipulated me, played head games with Remy and... What you did was wrong."

 

"I know that and I accept whatever punishment you think is suitable." Warren smiled through the tears that had escaped his eyes.

 

"But first we have to find Remy. Sally's worried he doesn't want to be found and if that's the case, finding him might be impossible."

 

"We won't give up," said Warren. "We'll find him."

 

"I hope so."

 

###

 

 

"It's useless," sighed Sally. "Remy doesn't want to be found."

 

They had searched the alley where he had found Remy, and Worthington had to agree. "I'll ask the police to look out for him. How hard can it be to find a boy with his eyes? I'll hire a private detective as well." Seeing Warren's disappointed expression, he felt like he had failed his son. "We'll keep an eye out for him, son."

 

"Do you think we'll find him?" Warren sounded discouraged. The misery and hopelessness around him was getting to him. "If we don't find him I can never make things up to him. I didn't mean it like that. I didn't know he was homeless."

 

Sally gently squeezed his shoulder. "We'll continue to search for him, that's all we can do."

 

The car turned around, taking them away from Bourbon Street. Warren's shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Would he ever get the chance to make things up to Remy?

 

###

 

Shivering, and aching inside, Remy left the car and stepped back on to the pavement where Claudette was waiting for him. The hundred dollars were in his hands, and he held on tightly. They would buy him food and a place to sleep. "Merci," he said hoarsely as Claudette handed him Tails and his bag. The john hadn't been gentle, had rushed him and now he was hurting. He could only hope that the bleeding had stopped.

 

"Remy, you look bad... Let me look at you."

 

"It's rien." Remy waved the concern away. "Jus' need some sleep."

 

"You're too young to be doing this..."

 

"Mais I have no choice!" Remy suddenly burst out sobbing. If only he had been able to befriend Warren, then he would still be living with the Worthingtons. "Dis is my life now, Claudette." Wiping away his tears, he headed for the nearest shelter, hoping a bed had become miraculously available.

 

Claudette watched Remy leave. The boy was dragging his feet and was obviously hurting. "God, please keep him safe..."

 

End of Part 1


	2. Adults

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years after Warren drove Remy away he returns to New Orleans. Betsy  
> dumped him and he's taken a leave of absence from the X-Men. Finding himself  
> on Bourbon Street, he picks up a young hustler, which has grave consequences.

Live and Learn

Part 2 Adults

 

Being back on Bourbon Street feels strange. It's been over ten years since my father and I searched these streets, hoping to find the mutant my dad had taken in. Back then I didn't know how hard it was, being a mutant. I found out the hard way when my wings sprouted from my shoulders. I was a teenager when they appeared, marking me a mutant. My dad accepted it reluctantly. I suspect that the art of my mutation helped him accept it. Having wings didn't make me an 'evil' mutant like others. My wings made me look divine, blessed. I can barely imagine what it must have been like for Remy, with his red and black eyes.

 

I was a spoiled brat back then. I couldn't deal with having a competitor close. I felt like Remy would take my dad away from me, but only now, years later, I understand where he was coming from. We never found him, and we went back countless times. I think Sally went back the most times, unwilling to accept defeat. She must really have loved that boy. Unfortunately Sally died two years ago, only months after my father did, leaving me alone in this world.

 

Yes, I inherited my father's business empire, I have more money than I can ever spend and I should be one of the happiest people alive, but I'm not. Susan dumped me and I still don't know why. She's giving me the cold shoulder ever since and when I try to talk to her, she ignores me. I'm not ever sure trying to get through to her is worth the effort.

 

Taking a leave of absence from the X-Men was hard. I didn't want to part from my friends, but I need to be on my own for a while. Bobby offered to come with me and even Slim and Hank seemed concerned, but I'm all right, just a little disappointed and confused.

 

Oh fuck, who am I trying to kid? I know exactly why Susan dumped me. I should have told her that I'm attracted to men as well before we got involved, but I felt more comfortable not confiding in her. Maybe it was because I anticipated her next move; dumping me.

 

So what am I doing on Bourbon Street? At first I thought I was here to relive old memories, but that's not it. Yes, I realize what a spoiled brat I was when we were searching for Remy, but I'm here for a different reason. I moved in to dad's place, and it feels empty. Maybe if I hadn't chased away Remy I would have had a companion, a friend. Now that I'm twenty-two I understand what my dad tried to do. I must have been a lonely kid.

 

The truth is that I'm here to pick someone up; a man, who I can spend the night with. No strings attached, just sex, just a paid fuck. It's all I can ask for right now. I'm no way ready for a new relationship and I don't even want to think about commitment after what Susan did. At times I think she was only with me because of my money and my reputation.

 

So that's why I'm here, to get laid. My wallet's packed so finding a hustler shouldn't be a problem...I just don't want to be alone tonight.

 

###

 

Warren scanned Bourbon Street with his eyes; plenty of hustlers were trying to hook up with a customer. He passed by the muscle, not interested in the men who were flexing their biceps. If he'd had a thing for muscle he might have revealed his sexual preference to Logan, but no, he was searching for something refined, elegant...

 

The younger boys appeared and he momentarily felt guilty for even coming here. Some of them couldn't be older than twelve and involuntarily he was reminded of Remy, who had lived here, making his money in the same fashion. He had no idea what had happened to the boy whose life he had ruined and he wasn't interested in finding out; he was still running away from his guilt.

 

He sighed relieved after he had passed them by. Now the older hustlers appeared, already over the hill for this profession. They had to work a lot harder to earn their money than the younger boys, but one of them caught his attention. He had leather pants on and leaned back against the wall, bare-chested and smoking a cigarette. Uh, he hated cigarettes and cigars, but the hustler was his type and he stopped, allowing himself a closer look. Long, auburn hair danced on his shoulders and fine, elegant jaw bones led him to delicious, luscious lips. The only thing that irritated him was the fact that the other man was wearing sunglasses. He would have liked to see the eyes.

 

Realizing he was facing a potential customer, the hustler approached the car, trying to strut his stuff, but Warren thought he saw tired lines deeply etched in to the other man's forehead.

 

"Salut..."

 

Warren flinched involuntarily, once more reminded of his former 'foster-brother'. That's crazy! We're in New Orleans, of course they speak French!

 

"Hello." He tried to guess at the hustler's age, but failed. The long hair framed a beautiful face and Warren knew he had made his choice. "How old are you?" He could see the hustler arch an eyebrow behind the sunglasses. "And I want the truth."

 

"I'm nineteen, beau..."

 

Warren was under the impression that the other man was telling the truth. A bit too young... He would have preferred it if the hustler had been a year older, a bit closer to his own age.

 

"What's your pleasure, m'sieur? Wanna fuck? Or feel my lips 'round you? You can have it all..."

 

"How much?" He hated negotiating, but doing it now would save him trouble later.

 

"One fifty if you wanna fuck, fifty if you want me to blow you and de rest's negotiable..." The hustler flashed his customer a stunning smile.

 

Warren suddenly got second doubts. This was so wrong! "I don't want to do it in the car..."

 

"I've got a room, beau, mais it costs you twenty extra."

 

But the fear of facing another lonely night was too much and Warren nodded his head. "Get in." He was so tired of being alone and wanted someone to hold on to, to keep him warm in bed.

 

The hustler didn't waste any time and sat down on the passenger's seat. "Nice car..."

 

"Thanks..." Warren had never felt more grateful that Hank's little gadgets enabled him to change his appearance. His wings were gone and to all the world he appeared like a 'normal' young man. "What's your name?"

 

"C'est Gambit, beau, mais you can call me everyt'in' you want. I'm easy..."

 

Warren heard the bitter undertone in the other man's laugh. "Gambit?"

 

"Had to pick somet'in, beau..."

 

His body temperature sky rocketed, seeing Gambit stroke himself through the fabric of his leather pants.

 

"You didn' tell me yet what you want."

 

Warren followed the other man's directions, taking them to Gambit's home. "I don't know yet."

 

"Ai, better be honest wit' me, you know what you want, dey all do."

 

Again, Warren noticed the bitter tone.

 

"You wanna fuck me..."

 

And yes, it was true! Warren hated himself for feeling this way, but it was true. From the first moment he had laid eyes on Gambit, he had known he wanted to go all the way. "Yes..."

 

"Mais I always use protection, don' wanna die..."

 

Warren nodded. "Of course..." He would never have unprotected sex with a prostitute!

 

"Dis is it!" Gambit pointed at a building to his right. "Second floor..."

 

Warren parked the car and followed Gambit into the building. He was used to first class hotels and startled, wondering if he had really seen a rat disappear into a dark corner. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all!

 

Gambit opened the door and Warren hesitantly followed him inside. Relieved, he noticed that the place was clean, even tidy. Apart from two chairs, and a TV, the only thing noticeable was the big bed. Gambit dropped on to the bed, stretched and Warren awkwardly realized it was time to pay the other man for the services he would shortly perform.

 

"And beau, do you already know what you wanna do?" Unceremoniously, Gambit began unbuttoning his trousers, then sliding the leather pants down his long legs.

 

Warren swallowed hard, realizing Gambit was going commando and he had to admit he liked the elegance in those long legs. He uncovered his wallet and watched the hustler closely; slightly irritated that the sunglasses were still on. "First, I want to impose one rule." Gambit startled, but managed to hide it and Warren wondered what kind of rules the hustler usually had to obey. "You don't touch my back." He didn't want to risk Gambit finding out about his wings or the device that nestled between them.

 

Gambit sighed relieved. "No problem, beau."

 

Warren stared at the beautiful man in front of him, frowning when he discovered several scars on the smooth skin. Of course, Gambit led a dangerous life, never knowing who his next john would be. There were bound to have been perverts among them. "I..."

 

"Want me to go down on you? Wanna fuck me?"

 

"Yeah..." Warren suddenly burst out in a cold sweat. He had never sought out paid love before. Yes, he had been with a few men, but had never paid them.

 

"Dat's one seventy, beau... mebbe you feel generous tonight, oui? Gimme a li'l extra?"

 

Warren handed Gambit two hundred dollars and watched the hustler count the money. "It's all there," he said, feeling disappointed that the other man didn't trust him.

 

"Mais oui, it's all dere..." Gambit reached beneath the bed and put the money in to a small box. "Come here, beau, lemme make you feel bien..."

 

Warren allowed Gambit to sit him down on the bed and noticed that the other man's hand stayed clear of his back. Good. Gambit slid off the bed and kneeled on the floor, pushing his legs apart. Surprised, he drew in a deep breath as the hustler unzipped him.

 

"Will go slow wit' you, beau..."

 

Warren threw back his head, intending to relish every moment of this encounter. The one advantage of paying someone was that he didn't have to pay attention to Gambit's feelings. The hustler was merely here for his pleasure!

 

"Slow..."

 

Warren stared helplessly as the other man skillfully removed his jeans and his underwear in one go. Fuck, he was already rock hard, leaking pre-ejaculate. He hadn't realized how much he really wanted/needed this! His fingers found their way into the auburn locks and he stroked the hair, using action instead of words to tell the hustler what he wanted... Soft and willing lips closed around his cock. Susan had always refused to do this for him and he craved it so much!

 

"Oh...." Involuntarily, he thrust upward, feeling wet and warm lips pamper his leaking cock. "Yes..." He was briefly distracted and displeased when he realized that Gambit was rolling down a condom over the length of his cock, but then he nodded. "It's okay...We agreed on protection." But those lips didn't feel that great anymore when they returned to lick and suck him.

 

"Fuck, no..." Warren moaned, unable to hold back. The sensation was too much and it had been weeks since he had last had sex. Climaxing, he shot his load in to the latex condom and sighed when Gambit removed it. Briefly, he was tempted to offer the hustler more money if he went bareback, but decided against it. The danger of infection was too big.

 

"Lemme..." After disposing of the used condom, Gambit's agile hands moved upward, about to remove the shirt.

 

"No..." Warren stopped him by taking hold of the other man's wrists. He had to stop Gambit from removing the shirt. "Leave it on..."

 

"You're de boss, beau..."

 

Warren cocked his head, feeling more relaxed now that he had shot his first load. "Take off the sunglasses?"

 

"Non, beau. Got an infection, eye is gross... You don' wanna see it..."

 

"Did you see a doctor?" Warren was surprised to feel worried about someone he had just met.

 

"Don' worry 'bout it, beau. You paid for a bien time and you'll have one..."

 

Cunning fingers stroked the insides of his thighs, causing him to grow hard again. "I really want you," Warren admitted in an unguarded moment. He wanted to bury himself in the other man's body, feel the tight heat around him.

 

"How do you want me, beau?"

 

Warren noticed that Gambit wasn't aroused at all and realized that this was just a fuck, not making love. Gambit didn't want him like he wanted the hustler. "Hands and feet..."

 

"Doggie style? Oui, no problem for Gambit..."

 

Gambit suddenly moved past him, sliding on to the bed and his hands pulled him along. Warren went willingly, thinking with his cock instead of his common sense.

 

Gambit took hold of another condom and rolled it down, gently massaging Warren's cock. "Lube?"

 

Warren nodded. Without lube it would be a painful experience for Gambit, but he suspected that not every john was considerate of the prostitute's needs. He moaned deliriously when Gambit rubbed the lube on to his throbbing cock. "Stop, or I'll come right here and now."

 

"Need it bad, oui?" Gambit laughed, kneeled and supported himself by placing his arms on the bed. "Go for it, homme."

 

Almost drooling, Warren stared at the perfect mounds of flesh in front of him. "You have a great ass..." Experimentally, he placed his hands on the ass cheeks and massaged them, then separating them and finding the small pucker that would welcome him shortly. He frowned briefly, realizing he didn't really like the submissive pose Gambit was in, but supposed the hustler's usual customers demanded it.

 

Kneeling behind Gambit, he curled his fingers around his cock and positioned himself against the tight ring of muscle. "Are you ready?"

 

A surprised moan drifted toward him, once more realizing that a john wasn't supposed to show this much consideration, but he wasn't going to force himself a way inside when the other man wasn't ready.

 

"Oui, beau, fuck me..."

 

Overwhelmed by his own passion and need, he pushed past the guardian ring, pushing deeper and sheathing himself to the hilt. "Feels good..." To be honest, it felt incredibly right. Losing himself in the sensation of feeling a hot, tight channel around his pulsing cock, he thrust. Slow at first, harder in the end. The bed rocked beneath his powerful thrusts and he grabbed Gambit's hips tightly, driving himself into the warm glove for a last time. He climaxed, muttering something intelligible and then collapsed on top of the hustler, who went down as well. "That was..." Lacking words, he simply relished lying there, still inside the other man.

 

"Hope it was wort' de money..."

 

The icy reply shook Warren from his ecstatic feelings and he pulled out, distinctly hearing the pain-filled moan that fled Gambit's lips. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

 

"Doesn' matter, you paid..."

 

With a shock, Warren realized what he had just done. He had taken something from another man because he had wanted it and even worse, he had paid for it. What was wrong with him? That wasn't like him! Stunned, he watched as the hustler dragged himself upright and once more removed the condom. Still, the damn sunglasses were on! He was jolted into action when Gambit threatened to leave the bed. "Hey, wait."

 

"What for? You paid me, you fucked me... Time's up. Dis is what you paid for."

 

The words hit Warren like an icy shower. "No, wait, Stay."

 

"Why?" Gambit remained on the bed with obvious reluctance. "Need to find anot'er john. Rent's due tomorrow..."

 

"You're going back on the streets right now? You must be sore from..."

 

"From gettin' fucked..." He shrugged. "What's new? I get fucked almost every day."

 

Suddenly it was very important to Warren to keep Gambit here, and off the streets, but he couldn't figure out why. "How much?"

 

"How much?"

 

"How much for the night? I don't want you to leave now. I'll pay for the entire night." His actions surprised him. Why was he this concerned about someone he barely knew? Well, you just fucked him... that might have something to do with it!

 

"De whole night?"

 

"I'lll pay you an additional two hundred if you stay. Think about it. It's easy money. I don't think I can get it up again." The lines on Gambit's forehead deepened and Warren knew he had hit bulls' eye. He grabbed his wallet from the nightstand and handed Gambit another two hundred. "It's easy money."

 

"What do you want in return?" Gambit didn't seem convinced.

 

"To hold you. I want you in this bed, beside me." The truth was that he wanted to wrap his arms around the other man and hold him.

 

"It's too easy, homme. What's de catch?"

 

"No catch, I promise..." Warren hoped the hustler would accept the offer. "It's four in the morning. You must be tired as well. We can both use some sleep."

 

Gambit reluctantly accepted the money. "Bien... We'll sleep, mais don' fuck me when I'm 'sleep, wake me first..."

 

The hurt in Gambit's tone alerted Warren. Shit, is that what they like to do to you? Some men must be real perverts. "Nothing's going to happen while you're asleep. I promise." He tried to look as sincere as he could. When Gambit finally nodded his approval, he kicked the blankets to the foot end of the bed. "Come on, lay down." Gambit's weight settled in his arms, against his chest and Warren smiled. "You can remove those sunglasses now, you know. I can't see your face anyway and they can't be comfortable when you're trying to sleep."

 

He didn't get an answer, but a moment later he watched Gambit place the sunglasses on the nightstand. "I don't know about you, but I'm tired."

 

"Me too..."

 

Warren heard the sincerity in those two little words. The hustler was dead tired. "Then go to sleep..." He bit his lip when Gambit grinded his ass against his groin, but he didn't say a thing. The other man was probably just getting more comfortable, confined as he was to the embrace. A few moments later, he heard slow and regular breathing, telling him the other man was asleep. Relaxing as well, he focused on feeling the warm body in his arms and followed Gambit in to sleep.

 

###

 

When Warren woke the next morning he felt disorientated. Opening his eyes, he wondered where the hell he was. This wasn't a hotel room or his home in New Orleans... Next came the sensation of holding a warm body in his arms, a very male body and then his memories returned to him. It was Gambit; the young hustler he had paid to spend the night with him.

 

During the night Gambit had turned in his sleep and now lay facing him. He savored the moment, realizing just how handsome the other man was. The sunglasses had previously obscured some of his features. Frowning, he found no evidence of an eye infection, but then dismissed the idea. Maybe it was mostly healed.

 

He wanted to stretch, find something to eat and then head home. Maybe he would pay Gambit for his services again in the future...

 

Gently, he began to untangle them and luckily Gambit didn't fight him in his sleep. A moment later, he sat upright on the side of the bed and covered Gambit with the blankets to keep him warm. After stretching his body, he reached for his clothes and... froze. A shrivel-eyed turtle was staring back at him. The stuffed animal looked tattered, worn, but he still recognized the toy. A fist closed around his heart. No, it was impossible!

 

He reached for the turtle and examined it. His hands started to sweat, realizing that it could be Remy's turtle. "No..." Looking over his shoulder, he felt nervous. The hair color matched... Remy had had auburn hair, had worn it long. But no, it was impossible! This couldn't be the same boy he had chased away a decade ago! He couldn't have paid and fucked Remy! Not Remy! The hustler's name was Gambit, not Remy!

 

His heart thundered and his fingers shook; he had to know for sure. "Hey, wake up, Gambit." He gently shook the other man, and his glance settled on the sunglasses. Oh man, how stupid could he be! The sunglasses would hide the red and black eyes that marked Remy as a mutant! Oh no, this couldn't be happening! If Gambit was Remy it meant that the boy had gone back to Bourbon Street and had lived there as a hustler for the last ten, almost eleven years! He would never forgive himself if red on black eyes stared back at him! It meant he had driven Remy back in to prostitution!

 

"Wake up!" Using more strength, he shook the other man until the eyes finally opened... His world stopped turning when he looked in to red on black eyes. Oh, my God, it's him... It's true...

 

"Remy..."

 

###

 

Remy didn't know what to make of the john's reaction. Then it suddenly hit him; his eyes! Reaching for his sunglasses, he was stunned when the other man grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He flinched, recalling other johns who had lashed out at him after they'd had sex, when it finally hit them what they had done. It had been a mistake to allow the john to stay for the night, no matter how badly he needed the money! It had been over a week since he'd had a paying customer and he was back in rent as well. Reacting instinctively, he closed his eyes, making sure the john was no longer confronted with his demonic eyes.

 

"No, don't... You don't need the sunglasses. It's okay."

 

The john's stuttered words surprised him. "It is?" He didn't meet many people who accepted his mutated eyes.

 

"Yeah, it is. So that's why you didn't want me to see your eyes?"

 

"I never know how dey'll react," explained Remy. Suddenly he recalled what had woken him. The john had said his name, but he was sure he had never revealed it to the other man, just his working name. "You called me Remy... How did you know?" He was sure he hadn't told the john, he never did!

 

"When you told me your name's Gambit, you also called yourself Remy, in the same breath."

 

Remy's eyes narrowed; he recognized a lie when he heard one, but he dismissed it for now. His landlord was due any moment and he had to check if he had the rent money for this month, if not, he was homeless again. "Time's up, homme. It's mornin'. I'm sure you've got places to go." But the other man remained seated on the bed, staring at him with big eyes.

 

"My name's... Warren... I didn't introduce myself yet..."

 

Warren? Mon Dieu, the name awoke an old pain, which he had thought buried. He stared at the offered hand. Did the john expect him to shake it? My, this was weird. This never happened before. "Oui, name's Remy..." But he didn't shake the other man's hand. "What do you want, homme? Most johns are outta here after fuckin' me..." The blue eyes that stared back at him appeared strangely shocked and he could almost sense the john's concern and interest. "What?"

 

"I want to offer you a deal..."

 

"A deal?" Alarmed, he moved away from the john, who had introduced himself as Warren, but he couldn't be sure it was the man's real name. He could be lying. No one took the time and effort to be honest with a whore! He had learned that the hard way. "What kinda deal?" In spite of his uncertain situation he had to admit that this particular john was one of the more considerate people he had to deal with. Even when the john had fucked him, he had made sure he was in no pain, which had been a pleasant surprise. Most johns liked seeing him in pain. The scars on his body told their own story.

 

"Yes, a deal... I'm new in town. I've been in New Orleans before, but I don't know any people here... You could be my... escort... for the time that I'm staying here. I've got a penthouse in the center of town and I'd pay you for your time of course."

 

Remy's head reeled, never expecting that one. "Your escort?"

 

"Yeah, you'd stay at my penthouse, accompany me to formal functions, things like that."

 

"For how long? How long are you stayin' in N'Arlings?" Was he seriously considering going along? He couldn't trust this john! This could be an elaborate plan to get him on the slave market! Shivering, he recalled stories he had heard from other hustlers who had only escaped after long years in which they had been sold from one owner to another.

 

"One week, maybe two."

 

Remy moved about in the bed, realizing he was feeling sore, no matter how gentle the john had been. The last two weeks had been bad. One john had fucked him ruthlessly, tearing him in the process and he had been forced to go to the clinic where they had put in stitches. He had been unable to work these last two weeks and this was his first john since. Maybe he hadn't healed completely yet. The doctor had said not to have anal sex for the next six weeks; he'd had sex after two. He didn't want to venture out on the streets feeling like this, and maybe he should accept the offer. "How much?"

 

"How much do you make in one week?"

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Depends... Usually 'round five hundred." He didn't mention that he was broke right now. The money he had just made would pay the rent, but he still didn't have any money to buy food or pay the doctor at the clinic.

 

"Okay, this is the deal. For every week that you stay with me I give you six hundred dollars."

 

Remy seriously considered it. It'd be easy money... Oui, he'll wanna fuck me 'gain, mais he's gentle and... Merde, I don' have a choice. Refusin' him means goin' back on to de streets and de next john can be a bastard who fucks me up even more...

 

"Remy?"

 

"Call me Gambit, not Remy..." In order to survive he had protected the child, Remy, who still lived inside his mind. It was Gambit, the hustler who took the pain and abuse in order to make the money. He didn't want the john to get too much power over him.

 

"But I like Remy best."

 

He sighed. "You're payin', homme."

 

"I take it that's a yes?"

 

"Oui, I accept..." His head was reeling. "What do you want me to do?"

 

"Pack your personal stuff. I need to make a phone call, let Earl know I'm heading for the penthouse."

 

"Who's Earl?" It wasn't his place to ask questions, but his curiosity always got the better of him.

 

"My butler..."

 

"Butler?" Was this john that rich? Suddenly he trembled; an other spoiled rich kid had had a huge impact on his life. Warren... Warren had been so jealous of him that he had set him up, calling him a thief. The few weeks he had spend with Sally had been the best and carefree ones of his life. No, he didn't want to think of Warren, the brat who had ruined the one chance life had given him.

 

"Get packing, Remy..."

 

He did as he was told and grabbed some clothes, which he quickly put on. Looking over his shoulder, he found that the john was dressed now as well and making a call over a cell phone. His eyes settled on Tails, his trusted companion and his hands itched to put it in the bag as well, but the john would burst out laughing, seeing him drag around a stuffed animal. In the end, he put it in the bag after all.

 

"Are you ready to go?"

 

Remy shook his head. "Need to pay de landlord."

 

"I'll take care of that. Anything else? I want to leave..." Something metallic snapped and both men stared at each other. "What was that?"

 

"Mouse trap. Use dem to catch de rats..."

 

"Rats, how can you live like this?"

 

"Don' have much of a choice, homme. Rent's low..." Remy was about to follow the john to the door when he flinched. "Can' go wit' you..."

 

"Why not?"

 

The john seemed irritated and Remy gave him an apologetic look. "Nat'aniel."

 

"Nathaniel?"

 

"He's one of my regulars. He'll be pissed off when he doesn' find me here." At times, Nathan had saved his sanity, giving him money when he hadn't eaten for days, finding himself almost thrown out of his home... Nathan had helped him time and time again. Even when he had thought he had lost his mind because he was feeling too much. "Can' leave like dis."

 

"Why don't you write him a note, telling him you're with a... client and that you'll be back in a short while?"

 

Remy's eyes dropped. The suggestion made sense, but he couldn't tell the other man that he couldn't write!

 

"Why don't you finish packing and I write that note? You can carry your stuff to the car, and I'll join you once I'm done here."

 

Remy nodded, used to following orders. Once he stood in the corridor, he drew in a deep breath. He had collected the money from beneath his bed and it offered him a little safety should the john turn out to be a pervert after all. The money would keep him alive for the first few days. Slowly he made his way downstairs, seeing a rat's eyes shining from a dark corner. So he would be living in a penthouse the next few days? He grinned, unable to imagine such luxury.

 

He reached the car and waited for the john to join him. Maybe I should stop callin' him dat when I'm spendin' de next few days wit' him, mais I ain' comfortable callin' him Warren eit'er. What are de odds of him bein' named Warren? The name reminded him of a lost chance.

 

The john, no Warren, joined him a few minutes later.

 

"The note's on the door and I met your landlord on the way out. He was rather upset that you'd left so I paid this month's rent for you. A little bonus."

 

Remy sighed relieved. He had a place to come home to after Warren left New Orleans. "Merci." He would make it up to the john, Warren. He hadn't met a man yet who refused a blow job or a good fuck.

 

"Are you ready to go, Remy?"

 

Although he nodded, he didn't feel completely comfortable, getting in to the car. What had he gotten himself in to? What if he was walking in to a trap set up by slave traders? His experiences as a child had left him suspicious.

 

Warren slipped behind the wheel and keyed the ignition. Remy held on to his plastic bag and looked over his shoulder at the quickly fading apartment building. Licking his lips, he stared at his hands, wondering what the future held in store for him.

 

###

 

Warren remained silent for most of the ride, trying to deal with what had happened. After eleven years he had miraculously found Remy, the kid he had wronged so badly. Next, he had paid and fucked him and now he was taking Remy to the penthouse. He couldn't take Remy to the old place because then the younger man would recognize the house and realize who he really was.

 

Looking to his right, he found that Remy was tightly clutching the plastic bag. He had seen Remy put Tails into it and was surprised that the stuffed animal was still around. It must mean a lot to Remy. "Second thoughts on coming along?"

 

Remy shrugged. "Your money's as good as someone else's." 

 

Warren disliked hearing the icy tone to Remy's voice, but couldn't blame him. As a child, Remy had done what was necessary to survive on the streets. Why didn't I behave back then? It would have saved Remy from the streets. I can never make things up to him! !

 

Relieved, he entered the parking garage and parked the car. "Earl's expecting us." He waited for Remy to join him and then guided him to the elevator. Remy's trembling caught his attention and he wondered what was wrong. Well, he understood Remy's point of view, kind of. Remy was taking a grave risk by coming along.

 

As they rode the elevator, he checked the time. It was almost noon. He had spent more time with Remy than he had thought. "I have a meeting in two hours, so make yourself at home. Earl will prepare some lunch and I'll join you again for dinner."

 

Remy followed hesitantly as they stepped into the penthouse. A surprised gasp left Remy's lips and Warren raised an eyebrow, seeing wonder in the red and black eyes. "What is it?"

 

"It's grande..."

 

Warren looked about, wondering how things appeared to Remy. Compared to some of his houses, this apartment was small. "Ah, Earl..."

 

Earl, dressed in a black costume, slightly bowed his head. "Master Warren... I trust you had a pleasant trip?"

 

Warren shrugged off his coat and handed it to his butler, signaling Remy to do the same thing. "Remy, this is Earl, he's the butler." Again, a sense of wonder appeared in Remy's alien eyes and Warren understood to some degree. Earl was the old fashioned kind, priding himself on the fact that he'd once served Queen Elizabeth of Great Britain.

 

"Your coat, sir?" Earl arched an eyebrow when accepting Remy's leather coat. "Would you like some refreshments, sirs?"

 

"Some coffee would be great, Earl." Warren sat down on a couch, and found Remy confused and slightly dazed. "Earl will prepare the guest room for you and he'll give you a tour later. I would do it myself, but I'm already running late." Earl returned with the coffee and Warren sipped thankfully, knowing that Earl had started the coffee maker after he had made that first call. A good butler was always prepared. "You can sit down, you know."

 

Remy shuffled his feet, feeling uncomfortable. When Earl approached, he froze.

 

"What would you like to drink, sir?"

 

"You don' need to call me dat..." Remy helplessly looked about.

 

"As you wish, sir. What would you like to drink?"

 

Remy gave up. "Coffee's bien." He shuffled toward the couch opposite Warren and slowly sat down.

 

Warren noticed the concerned glance Earl gave Remy. He's probably sore... Maybe a hot bath will help. "I'll be gone until dinner. Why don't you use that opportunity to soak in the bathtub?"

 

"I'll prepare a hot bath," offered Earl, returning from the kitchen with another mug filled with hot coffee.

 

"I leave Remy in your very capable hands," joked Warren, halfheartedly. Remy looked too pale and something was off. After emptying the mug, he got to his feet and surprisingly, Remy did the same thing, probably acting instinctively. Warren however, was more interested in the faint red stain on the couch. He's bleeding! I fucking tore him up!

 

"Earl, set up an appointment with Doctor Robbins. I want Remy here to go for a physical." Remy blushed and Warren tried to look as stern as possible. Remy had now noticed the stain as well and looked as if he was about to flee the room.

 

Warren walked up to Remy, and rested a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "This is my fault, let me make up for it."

 

Remy couldn't lie, couldn't let Warren take the blame for something he hadn't done. "Not your fault... I was 'ready sore..."

 

Warren's eyes narrowed angrily. "You were hurting and... First you'll take that bath and then Earl will take you to my personal physician. I want the bleeding stopped, understood?"

 

Remy stared at the floor, feeling miserable. "Oui... I'm sorry for stainin' de couch. I'll pay for it..."

 

"Don't worry about it," said Warren. "We'll talk some more this evening. Now I have to leave or I'll be late." He planned on taking a quick shower, changing his clothes and then attending the board meeting. He would talk to Remy more in depth tonight.

 

###

 

"Dis ain' necessary. I can do dis myself..." Uncomfortably, Remy watched Earl fill the bathtub, and then place large, fluffy towels next to it. Earl put some bath gel in the water and then seemed pleased. To Remy, it seemed overdone. A shower would have done as well, although the idea of soaking in the tub was really tempting.

 

"You have an appointment at Doctor Robbins' office in two hours. I'll arrange for transport and accompany you," announced Earl.

 

"Really, dat ain' necessary. Don' need no doctor." But he knew he did.

 

"Be so kind to step in to the water, master Remy."

 

Remy flinched. "Don' call me dat, please..." It sounded so terribly wrong. "It's jus' Remy." Seeing Earl's determined expression he gave in and stepped in to the water. Slowly he sat down and then stretched his long legs. Warm water cradled him gently and it felt divine. "Merci, Earl..."

 

"You're welcome, sir." Earl gave his charge a pleased smile and then excused himself. "Please call me if you need me."

 

Remy closed his eyes, enjoying the hot soak. Only then he realized that Earl had reacted calmly upon seeing his eyes. They instantly flashed open, searched the bathroom, but found Earl gone. Earl hadn't even shown any disdain when they had first locked eyes, had simply accepted it. That was strange. And come to think of it, Warren had equally easily accepted his alien eyes. Frowning, he wondered about their willingness to accept a mutant.

 

Soft, classical music suddenly drifted in to the bathroom, making him smile. Earl reminded him of Sally, the only person who had ever cared about him. The smile stayed on his face a little longer, enjoying the warm cocoon. His tense muscles relaxed and he had been dozing when Earl suddenly entered. Alarmed, his eyes opened completely. "Somet'in' wrong?"

 

"It's time to get dressed, sir. You will turn in to a prune; you have been soaking for one hour now. We need to leave in thirty minutes; we don't want to keep Doctor Robbins waiting..."

 

"One hour?" Remy sighed. He must have fallen asleep then. "I don' need no doctor... Feelin' bien."

 

"Master Warren gave explicit orders and I will carry them out." Earl took hold of one of the towels and held it in front of Remy. "Come on, sir. You don't have anything I haven't seen before..."

 

Remy actually blushed. "Uh..." Reluctantly, he rose from the water and allowed Earl to wrap the towel around him. Then he was handed a second towel to dry his long hair.

 

"I took the liberty of selecting some clothes for you to wear. Leather pants are not acceptable in this situation."

 

"Uh, Earl... I don' have any decent clot'es." It was the truth. He only had leather pants and jeans with holes in them, designed to show off his body.

 

"Master Warren instructed me to arrange for a new wardrobe and although the time was very limited I managed to make a start. Let me show you to the guest rooms where you will be staying."

 

Remy was flabbergasted. A new wardrobe? Why would a john do that? Well, maybe because this john was fucking rich! After drying his skin and wrapping the second towel around his hair, he allowed Earl to drape a morning robe over his shoulders and he followed the older man to the guest rooms. Stunned, he stared at the large room, luxuriously furnished with only the best and most expensive furniture and a big four poster bed. "Dis is my room?"

 

"It's the guest room, and yours for now, yes," Earl said, pointing at the clothes on the bed. "Do you require assistance in getting dressed?"

 

"Non! Can do dat myself! I ain' a child."

 

"Very well. Please join me in the living room in fifteen minutes. Max, the chauffeur will drive us to Doctor Robbins' office." Earl left the room.

 

Remy shook his head in disbelief. The last twenty-four hours had been madness. Everything had changed since Warren had entered his life. Don' forget dis is only for one, mebbe two weeks and den you'll be back in your own filt'y place. Don' get used to de luxury, jus' don'...

 

###

 

The new clothes felt awkward against his skin. He couldn't remember ever wearing grey slacks before and the turtleneck caused a strange sensation as well. The only things he liked were the black shoes and the black blazer. Earl was fussing over him, steering him out of the elevator and toward the metallic colored limousine that was waiting for them. He had a hard time recognizing himself when he caught his reflection in a window.

 

"Max, Doctor Robbins' office," said Earl in a stern tone. The butler sat down opposite Remy and kept a close eye on his charge.

 

Remy didn't understand what was happening. Only one day ago he had been selling his ass on Bourbon Street!

 

Ten minutes later, the limousine stopped, parked, and Earl opened the doors for him. Remy shyly thanked him and waited for Earl to join him; he had no idea where they were headed. They rode the elevator to the tenth floor and he obeyed as Earl asked him to take a seat in the waiting room. As he had left the bathtub he had checked if he was still bleeding and it looked like the bleeding had stopped.

 

Suddenly a door opened and an elderly man stepped in to the waiting room. His hair was grey and his blue eyes were slightly hidden behind thick glasses. "You must be Remy. Warren called me on the phone. Why don't you come inside?"

 

Remy swallowed hard. The last time he had tried to see a doctor they had kept him waiting for three hours; the clinic had been understaffed and had too many patients. "Oui, I'm Remy..." What had happened to Gambit? Why was suddenly everyone calling him Remy? It had started when Warren had refused to call him Gambit... Then Earl had taken to calling him Remy as well and now even this stranger knew his real name! He quickly checked the man's face to make sure it wasn't one of the johns he had serviced in the past, but he had never seen the man before.

 

"Sit down, Remy." Doctor Robbins moved some papers from one end to the other on his desk. Peeking from behind his glasses, he cleared his throat. "I must admit that Warren already told me where you're hurting."

 

Remy flushed a brilliant red. "He didn' have de right to tell you. It's private." What exactly had Warren told the physician? He couldn't imagine a john telling the truth in such a situation.

 

"Warren told me that the two of you had sex and that you were bleeding afterwards. He's worried you're torn and asked me check on you."

 

Remy lowered his eyes. "Wasn' his fault. I was 'ready sore 'fore de sex." Robbins gave him a look he only knew too well; Robbins expected him to come clean. "I had sex two weeks ago and... got torn, had stitches and..."

 

"The doctor who treated you must have told you not to have anal sex during six weeks, at least not with you on the receiving end..."

 

"Vrai..." Remy shrugged helplessly. "Mais I did." If Warren hadn't told Robbins that he was a whore he wasn't going to enlighten the physician.

 

"I have to examine you, Remy. I suspect you're familiar with the procedure?"

 

Remy released a deep sigh. "Oui." He got to his feet and walked over the exam table.

 

"Please drop your slacks and bend over." Doctor Robbins put on a latex glove. "I'll use some lubrication to make things easier on you. It might feel a tad cold."

 

Remy gritted his teeth, dropped his pants and bend over, leaning against the exam table. He froze, feeling a cold finger against his entrance. You've been t'rough dis 'fore, don' be a baby now! But he failed to repress a pained moan when Doctor Robbins examined him. It hurt. The fact that the physician wasn't talking to him unnerved Remy, but he wasn't starting a conversation with a man's finger up his ass!

 

Suddenly, the finger was retracted and the ache lessened. Remy released the breath he had been holding and looked over his shoulder, seeing Robbins nod.

 

"You can get dressed now..." Robbins disposed of the glove and returned to his desk. "Have a seat, Remy, or if that's uncomfortable you can stand."

 

Awkwardly, Remy shuffled his feet in front of the desk, preferring to stand. "Do I need new stitches?" He hoped not.

 

Seeing that his patient preferred to stand, Robbins rose as well, carrying a paper in his hands. "Remy, I want you to listen to me and hear what I'm saying."

 

Feeling embarrassed, Remy nodded. "I'm listenin'."

 

"I want to see you again in four weeks and then we'll see if you made progress or not. Until then no anal sex, do you understand? You need to heal first or you'll be adding more injuries to the list and then I will have to put in new stitches!"

 

Remy nodded his head weekly. C'est impossible. How else can I make money to pay for de rent and food? "I understand," he said meekly, knowing that he couldn't follow doctor's orders. Warren was paying him a lot of money and he had to deliver the goods.

 

"I lubricated the worst damaged area with an antibiotic ointment while I examined you. I'm giving you a prescription for it. Use it once, before going to sleep. And just to be on the safe side I'm also prescribing you a round of oral antibiotics. Take them twice a day after you ate something."

 

Remy flinched involuntarily when Robbins' hand touched his in order to give him the prescription and he refused to meet the older man's eyes.

 

"Remy, I get the impression that you're struggling with something... Would you like to talk to a counselor?" 

 

"Non, merci, don' need one." His fingers curled around the paper. "Can I go now?"

 

"Warren will want to know what I found... I need your permission to inform him..."

 

Remy wavered, then his shoulders slumped forward. This was a no win situation. "You can tell him." Warren would probably send him back and not pay him a dollar. I told you not to get used to de luxury!

 

"Remy, one last word of advice. Did you ever take antibiotics before?"

 

Remy shook his head. "No." He never had the money to pay for them.

 

"Being a mutant you might experience some side effects, like a mild fever. You might want to rest for a few days."

 

Remy peeked at Robbins. "How come you don' mind treatin' mutants?"

 

"I'm not prejudiced. Now get that prescription filled. Earl, that old blood hound, is probably already awaiting your return."

 

Staring at the paper in his hand, Remy turned away from Robbins, feeling numb and stunned. What was it with these people? They should shun him, not help him!

 

When he stepped into the waiting area, Earl immediately walked up to him, not giving him a moment to compose himself.

 

"What did the good old doctor say? Ah, I see you got a prescription. I'll get it filled. Let me, sir."

 

Dazedly, Remy allowed Earl to take hold of the paper. The next few minutes he spent staring at the floor and then suddenly Earl was back, guiding him back to the parking lot.

 

"You look rather pale, sir. May I suggest you lay down when we get home?"

 

Home? What's he talkin' about? De penthouse ain' my home. It's Warren's and he'll kick me out once he realizes he can' fuck me... Depressed, Remy realized they had reached the car and he collapsed on the back seat with Earl still at his side.

 

"Max, back to the apartment." Earl watched his charge concerned. He would make sure the young man rested once they got home.

 

###

 

"Please stop fussin', mon ami." Remy was growing desperate. As soon as they had set foot inside the penthouse, Earl began shooing him toward the guest room.

 

"I think it's best for you to rest," said Earl, "Master Warren will return within the hour and he'll join you for dinner."

 

Remy's head slumped forward. He couldn't deny that he felt tired, but lying down this much wasn't like him. Usually he was busy twenty-four hours a day to earn his money! Suddenly he realized that Earl had managed to remove the blazer and the older man now gently pushed him down on the bed. He obeyed and sat down, realizing how determined Earl was, but why the older man was so concerned escaped Remy. The next thing he knew, Earl had removed his shoes and urged him to lie down. Again, he obeyed.

 

"I'll wake you in time for dinner. I'll also remind you to take your medication after you ate. Is there anything else you require? If not, I'm going to start dinner."

 

Earl left the room and Remy finally relaxed. Dealing with all the things that had lately happened to him consumed his last energy. Recalling the plastic bag under his bed, he retrieved and opened it, gently removing Tails from it. The turtle no longer possessed the colors it used to. It was worn, stained, but it was still the shrivel-eyed stuffed animal he had fallen in love with as a kid. Sally had bought it for him and that fact made it even more precious. After pushing the bag back under the bed, he curled up on his left side, holding Tails in his arms. It didn't matter how silly it looked should Earl walk in on him; Tails was his security blanket and the rectal exam had made him feel humiliated. Why couldn't his life be simple for a change?

 

Covering himself with the comforter, he forced his tense muscles to relax. He was safe, for the moment at least. He hated being emotional, feeling vulnerable and he hardly ever showed his emotions to someone else. The only exception to that rule was Nathaniel. The man had saved his sanity when he had suffered several emotional breakdowns... and then there were these gasps in his memory. They started shortly after he had met Nathaniel for the first time. The physician had taken an interest in him, had examined him, helped him control his emotions. It didn't matter that Nathaniel had surgically implanted a small device beneath his skin to help him keep in control of his emotions. It didn't matter that Nathaniel got to fuck him for free. The man had saved him from insanity.

 

Mentally exhausted by the day's events he slowly drifted off in to sleep, tightly clutching Tails in his arms.

 

###

 

Warren massaged his temples. He had just spoken to Doctor Robbins and he was trying to deal with the new information. Robbins had been very clear, rest and no sex for at least four weeks. How had Remy taken the news? It was hard to put himself in Remy's shoes but he tried. No sex meant not delivering the goods he had promised, meant no income, meant being unable to pay the rent, meant becoming homeless. A terrifying doom scenario, which he had to prevent from happening. He had been given a second chance by finding Remy and he planned on using it.

 

"Sir?" Earl entered slowly, uncertain if his presence was wanted.

 

"How's Remy doing?" Warren sighed, let the paper drop on to the floor and looked Earl in the eyes. Earl had helped Sally raise him for years and after Sally had died, Earl had stayed around to mother him. In some ways Earl was more of a father than his own dad.

 

"Asleep and I have to point out that he looks exhausted... and way too skinny."

 

"Knowing you, you'll fatten him up within weeks!" Warren smiled. "When will dinner be served?"

 

"In five minutes. I thought maybe you'd like to wake our guest?"

 

Warren nodded his head. "Robbins updated me."

 

"I saw the prescription... and I must confess to being confused."

 

Warren got to his feet and walked up to Earl. He trusted the older man completely. "This remains between these four walls..."

 

"Of course, sir. I can keep secrets, it's part of my job."

 

Oh yes, Earl knew about his wings and had accepted his mutation like he had Remy's. "Remy..." How was he going to explain this one to Earl?

 

"Was the young man raped?" Earl firmly locked eyes with Warren.

 

"I don't think so. You see, he's a hustler, a prostitute. One of his customers... was too rough."

 

"I trust that wasn't you?" Earl's eyes had taken on a protective glance.

 

Warren swallowed hard. "I may have contributed to his situation, but I didn't know he was still healing."

 

"You sought out his services?" Somehow Earl had a hard time believing it. "I don't know you like that, Warren."

 

"Normally I wouldn't, but I felt lonely and he was available."

 

"So you did the decent thing and offered him a home?"

 

"He thinks he's here because I need an escort." Warren blushed. "I'm paying him for every week he stays with me. I had to do something! I couldn't let him go!"

 

Earl cocked his head. "I feel like I'm still missing pieces of the puzzle."

 

"You are..." Warren sighed. "When I was about eleven my dad decided to adopt a boy. He wanted me to have a companion, a friend. He must have seen how lonely I was, but I didn't see it that way. I set the boy up and he ran away, back to the streets where he came from. I didn't know he was homeless, I thought he'd gone back to the orphanage, but then dad told me the truth. We went back and searched Bourbon Street for several nights, but Sally thought that he didn't want to be found..."

 

Earl's eyes widened. "And that boy is Remy?"

 

"I didn't know until I saw the stuffed animal and his eyes." Warren bit his lower lip. "What's the chance of running in to him after eleven years?"

 

"So you picked him up, paid and bedded him?"

 

"And then I found who he really was." Warren blushed. "For years I beat myself up for setting him up. I was such a spoiled brat, Earl. I was really obnoxious and I made his life hell during the few weeks he spent with us. This is my chance to make things up to him!"

 

Earl gave Warren a thoughtful look. "And what are your plans? Keep paying him to stay for the rest of his life or are you going to confess up to him?"

 

"I don't know yet. I ruined his life. I'm the reason he went back to the streets and became a hustler. He must hate me." He had considered telling Remy the truth, but lacked the courage.

 

"In the end you'll have to tell him," said Earl thoughtfully.

 

"I know that, but I'm not ready yet."

 

"Then take small steps," advised Earl. "Wake him and have dinner with him. Talk to him... and don't forget that he has to take his medication."

 

"Yes, Doctor Robbins told me about the possible side effects. I didn't count on that; however, I should have thought of it. Maybe I should ask Hank to examine Remy and to monitor him."

 

"If you don't mind me saying so, but I think Remy mostly needs rest, not another doctor poking him."

 

"You might be right, Earl. We'll see what happens. I'm going to wake him now."

 

"I'll see you in the dining room."

 

Warren drew in a deep breath and stepped in to the corridor, heading for the guest room. Politely he knocked and softly announced his arrival. "Remy? It's almost time for dinner." Not getting an answer, he knocked harder. "Remy?" Now he was growing worried and he tried the doorknob. The door opened and he peeked inside. His heart contracted with guilt seeing Remy holding Tails in his sleep. "Why couldn't I behave back then?"

 

Suddenly Remy stirred and the alien eyes opened. Warren composed himself and cleared his throat. "It's time for dinner. I hope you're hungry." He noticed the startled look in Remy's eyes, and the younger man's glance traveled from Warren to Tails, dreading a remark. Warren ignored it. "You have five minutes to get ready." 

 

After closing the door behind him, he leaned against it, shaking his head. He had single-handedly ruined Remy's life, now he had to fix it.

 

###

 

Remy arched an eyebrow, finding the usual wooden dinner chairs replaced with padded, comfortable ones. Warren was already sitting at the dinner table, gesturing him to take a seat as well. "What's wit' de chairs, homme?"

 

"I thought these would be more comfortable." Warren gave Earl a signal and the butler began serving dinner.

 

"Chinese?" Remy had expected something more traditional, a tad more English, as Earl seemed very British to him.

 

"Earl's a man of many talents," joked Warren.

 

"Thank you, sir." Earl smiled and then placed a glass of water and the antibiotics next to Remy's plate. Wordlessly he disappeared in to the kitchen.

 

"He's a mother hen." Warren tasted the chicken and sighed blissfully. "He's also a great cook."

 

Remy stared at the food; he couldn't remember when he had eaten last and his stomach growled hungrily, reminding him of that very fact. He tried some of the vegetable rice and moved on to the chicken, finding everything very tasty.

 

"Don't forget to take your medication," reminded Warren Remy.

 

Remy nodded, put down his utensils and stared at the medication. "I'll be leavin' after dinner and I'll pay back de rent money I owe you."

 

"What?" Warren dropped his fork in surprise. "Why do you want to leave?"

 

"I can' keep my part of de deal and I don' t'ink you wanna pay me money when I can' deliver now dat you can'... fuck me..." Remy cringed. Hearing it like that made it sound bad. But it was the truth; he was just a paid whore. Maybe Nathaniel would help him out financially?

 

"That's nonsense! I want you to stay! You're not going back to that rats infested building! They were staring at me with their little eyes."

 

The vehemence in Warren's tone made Remy look up. Surprised, he found determination in Warren's eyes. "Mais..."

 

"Listen, Remy. I want you to stay, period. You're not leaving while you're taking medication which can have unpredictable side effects. I want to keep an eye on you."

 

This wasn't what he expected to hear. What kind of john would pay for goods that were never delivered? "I won' take any of your money."

 

"Remy, look about, do you really think money is that important to me? I have more money than I can spend. This is about you, your health and your safety."

 

Now Remy felt truly lost. "Come 'gain, homme?"

 

"My name's Warren, not homme," said Warren exasperated. "And yes, I feel guilty for making your situation worse."

 

"Wasn' your fault, told you dat." Remy now played with the food on the plate, his appetite gone. He had been so certain that Warren would kick him out!

 

"Take your medication, Remy," instructed Warren.

 

Remy sighed, but obeyed and swallowed the antibiotics. "Now what?"

 

"Now we finish dinner, watch some show on TV and then you're going to sleep." Warren studied the younger man and sensed some of Remy's unease. Remy probably had a hard time understanding why he was offering help without wanting something in return. "Eat some more."

 

Remy managed to eat more rice, but then pushed away his plate. He didn't want to admit it, but he was feeling sleepy. His eyes threatened to close once in a while and only his will was keeping him awake. It would be rude to fall asleep at the dinner table.

 

Earl returned, walked over to Warren and whispered something in to his ear. Remy wondered what the secrecy was about, but his eyes closed again and this time he failed to open them. He was still conscious, but too tired to pretend.

 

"Let's get him to bed," said Warren, slightly amused. "We should keep an eye on him tonight in case that fever hits."

 

"mokay..." Talking was increasingly difficult and Remy wondered why he still tried. Suddenly he was being lifted from the chair and he felt like floating in the air. Was someone carrying him? Instinctively, he reached for support and only found something soft; it felt like feathers, but what were feathers doing beneath his fingertips?

 

He sighed when the mattress rose to meet him. Pushing deeper in to its comfort, he reached out and searched for his stuffed animal. Some might think it pathetic that he needed it close to sleep, but he didn't care.

 

"Here's Tails, better?"

 

Tails? Warren wasn't supposed to know the stuffed animal's name. He was so sure he had never told Warren! First, the man had miraculously known his name and now he also knew the turtle's name. What was he missing? He was too tired to ask those questions. Something warm covered him and he curled up on his side, holding Tails, feeling pleasantly sleepy, but he still continued to hear their voices.

 

"Do you think he's comfortable like that? Shouldn't we undress him and put him in some pajamas?"

 

"Sir, I wouldn't move him about too much. He looks comfortable."

 

"I'll check on him during the night," said Warren, "Doctor Robbins mentioned the possibility of a slight fever and I'm not taking any chances."

 

"You seem to care about him, sir."

 

"I know, Earl. It's taking me by surprise as well."

 

The voices faded eventually and Remy stopped fighting his sleep.

 

###

 

"Non! Don'...!"

 

The scream startled Warren awake. Against all odds he had fallen asleep in front of the TV while watching the financial news.

 

"Non, don'... please!"

 

Remy's desperate voice sounded again and this time Warren was jolted in to action. On his way to Remy's room he ran in to Earl, who had also heard the screams. "I'll deal with it," he told Earl. "I have everything under control." Earl's expression told him that the older man doubted that, but Earl nodded and disappeared in to his own room.

 

Warren didn't bother with knocking, finding Remy's door open. Another scream echoed through the penthouse and he quickly covered the way to the bed. Remy was sitting upright, arms raised, fighting off something or someone only the young man could see.

 

"Remy? You're having a nightmare. Come on, Remy, wake up..." Warren sat down on the side of the bed and slowly took hold of Remy's shoulder, shaking him gently. "It's a nightmare, you're safe!"

 

A tormented moan left Remy's lips, then the tension slipped from his body and he collapsed against Warren. "Yes, that's it. I'll help you lie back down." Warren gently lowered Remy back on to the bed and pulled up the covers. "It was just a nightmare," he repeated, but what a powerful nightmare! Remy was still shaking and goose flesh had formed all over the younger man's body. Unexpectedly, red and black eyes stared at back at him, damn, Remy was awake! Confused, he wondered what to do or say. "Are you okay?"

 

"Sorry 'bout dat..." Remy closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Must be de medication."

 

"Sure." But Warren somehow doubted that. Remy probably had nightmares quite often. "Do you think you can go back to sleep?"

 

"I ain' sure..." Remy pushed himself into a sitting position and stared at Tails. "How come you know his name?"

 

"Whose name?" Warren frowned.

 

"I named him Tails when I was a chile and I don' remember tellin' you."

 

"Oh, the turtle? I heard you mumbling its name."

 

"When?"

 

Oops, busted. How was he going to save his sorry ass? "Maybe some fresh air will help? The balcony has a great view of the city." He hoped Remy would allow the change in subject. "I could do with some fresh air myself." Remy's exhausted expression told him that he had pulled it off once more; the younger man wasn't going to pressure him.

 

Remy pushed back the covers and swung his feet on to the floor. "'m a li'l dizzy," he realized, surprised.

 

"Maybe it's the medication." Warren watched Remy rise to his feet, ready to support the younger man if necessary. "This way." He guided Remy to the large balcony doors, opened them and then stepped outside. "There are some comfortable chairs over there." Not getting an answer, he looked over his shoulder, seeing the stunned expression in Remy's eyes. "What?"

 

"It's magnific..." Millions of lights illuminated the sky. New Orleans had never been this beautiful at night before! He only used to see the dark, seedier side of this town. He flinched involuntarily when Warren's arm came up around his waist.

 

"Sit down before you keel over. You look like you're sleepwalking."

 

Remy gratefully accepted and sat down. Even sitting down he could still see the city's lights. "You must love dis view."

 

Warren shrugged. "To be honest, I felt like that when I first came here, the impression has faded since then." Warren studied Remy and the younger man seemed to relax somewhat. "I was wondering..." He paused briefly when Earl appeared, carrying two mugs of hot tea. "Thanks..."

 

Earl nodded, placed the mugs on the little coffee table and then left.

 

"Earl knows things before I do. I'm really in the mood for some tea." Warren sipped carefully.

 

Remy used the mug to warm his hands. "You said you were wonderin'..."

 

"How did you end up on the streets? You're intelligent, handsome, you could have done better..." He was treading on dangerous grounds, but he had to know what had happened after Remy ran away.

 

Remy stared in to the mug with hot tea, wishing Warren hadn't asked him that particular question, but answering it was the least he could do in return for all this hospitality. "De first t'ing I remember are de streets. I musta been 'bout five. Some boys took care of me, mais when I got old enough, about seven, dey used me to draw in deir johns. Later on, de cops arrested dem and I was left 'lone on de streets. I made my money de only way I knew how. When I was eight I met dis man, a strange man. He didn' wanna have sex wit' me, instead he offered me a home wit' his son. I accepted, glad to get off de streets, mais..."

 

"Mais what?" Warren was holding his breath.

 

"De son didn' want me 'round and set me up. I ran 'way 'fore dey alerted the cops. Didn' wanna end up in prison, heard too many horror stories 'bout jail. So I returned to de streets..."

 

"And you have been there ever since?"

 

"Been sellin' me body as long as I can remember, oui." Tears appeared in Remy's eyes and he tried to ignore them, staring in to the mug instead. "When dat doctor told me I needed to rest for four weeks, I panicked... I was sure you'd kick me out and goin' back meant sellin' my ass 'gain, I'd never heal properly, de johns would notice it and move on to de next whore..."

 

Warren swallowed hard. This was his fault, he was to blame and he should come clean and tell Remy the truth now, that he was the spoiled little brat that had set him up, but he couldn't. Fucking coward! Remy's expression was worried and Warren wanted to help in whatever way possible. "Maybe we can work something out."

 

"Like what? You get to fuck me when I'm healed?"

 

Warren cringed. "Remy, I'm sorry I ever paid you in the first place. It was wrong."

 

"Oui, blame de whore..."

 

"No, that's not it! I'm the bastard here! I took advantage of your situation."

 

"Homme, I was sellin' myself. You didn' take advantage of me..."

 

Warren wondered how much it would take for Remy to stop thinking of himself as a whore. He had to try. "I've got an offer for you." Remy's eyes locked with his, staring at him apprehensively.

 

"What kinda offer?"

 

"You can stay here as long as you want. Don't worry about the money, I'll take care of everything."

 

"Why?" Remy frowned. "What's de catch?"

 

"No catch." Warren nervously licked his lips. "I like you, like having you around. There's no catch."

 

"I don' do charity."

 

Ah, you're stubborn... Warren shook his head. "No charity. I'm just fed up with being alone. You could be my traveling companion. Maybe we could become friends? Life is lonely when you're rich. When I meet someone I think they're after my money. It's hard to trust people or work on a relationship."

 

"Are you serious?" The lines on Remy's brow deepened. This was too good to be true.

 

"Yes." Warren hoped Remy would accept the offer. "Please say yes. I want to get to know you. I find you interesting." And it was the truth; he was interested in Remy. The way he had reacted during sex told him he really liked the younger man. If only it hadn't been Remy; now things were suddenly complicated. Having sex would only mess up their beginning friendship. I never thought I could ever be attracted to Remy!

 

"I don' know, homme..." Remy sipped his tea, closed his eyes and searched his feelings. He wanted a home more than anything, but there had to be a price to pay! "Why are you doin dis?"

 

"Because I'm lonely and I can help." Warren's fingers tightly clawed the empty mug. "You have nothing to lose, Remy. I offer you stability, an education if you want and there's no catch."

 

"You're too good to be true." Remy leaned back his head. "Reminds me of m'sieur Worthington, he offered me a home as well."

 

Warren had trouble staying calm. Tell him, come clean! Then he can take an honest decision. Now you're playing him, but no, I don't want to risk him getting angry and running away again! I have to wait a little longer. "It's your decision of course, but... Consider it carefully. I don't need an answer right now. You're running a fever and feeling sleepy. Give me your answer when you're ready. We should go back inside now. It's getting chilly and you must be getting cold."

 

Remy nodded absentmindedly. "Is gettin' cold, oui..."

 

Remy rose to his feet and Warren startled when the younger man unexpectedly locked eyes with him. This was a test. "I'm serious, Remy. You can stay, no catch."

 

"I don' feel comfortable decidin' now..."

 

"That's okay, take your time." Warren closed the balcony doors and joined Remy, who was swaying on his feet, sleep heavy in those alien eyes. Reaching out, he folded one arm around Remy's waist and helped him stay upright. "You're asleep on your feet."

 

"You might be right..."

 

Warren returned Remy to his bed and covered him with the comforter. "We'll talk some more tomorrow, if you want to."

 

Remy nodded in his sleep. "C'est bien."

 

"No more nightmares, you hear me?"

 

"willtry..." mumbled Remy barely audible.

 

Warren briefly sat down again, looking at the sleeping younger man. Raising his hand, he gently stroked the long locks, fingering the silky texture. Something he hadn't counted on was happening; he was falling in love. With Remy... I'm falling in love with him... Why did I hate him so much back then? Why did I want him gone so much? Now I want him to stay close. Life's weird...

 

Warren smiled saddened, rubbed a fingertip over Remy's furrowed brow and then rose from the bed. He was tired as well. After leaving Remy's room, he headed for his own, wondering what he was going to do about falling in love with Remy. Remy would never feel the same way about him.

 

He walked over to his bed, dropped on to it and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow, he could figure things out tomorrow. Sleepy, he dozed off as well.

 

###

 

Business closed. I moved on. Don't come back for me. I'm no longer offering any services.

 

He stared at the message in disbelief. What was this about? Where was Remy and who had written that note? Remy couldn't read or write so someone else had written it. Not caring if someone witnessed his transformation he changed into his armor. Mister Sinister stared at the door, tore off the paper and crumbled it in his fist. Someone had taken his property and he was going to get it back. Remy was his and he wasn't sharing.

 

###

 

Remy woke the next morning after a night of peaceful sleep. The first thing he noticed were the noises; someone was rummaging around in the room. Alarmed, his eyes opened, but he relaxed, seeing Earl put clothes in the closet.

 

"Good morning," said Earl, "I hoped you would wake up. Breakfast will be served in thirty minutes. May I suggest a quick shower? Do you want me to select today's clothes?"

 

Remy blinked. Those were too many questions this early. He pushed back the covers, blinked again and last night's memories returned to him. Had he really talked to Warren on the balcony? Recalling Warren's offer he felt shy.

 

Earl opened the curtains. "You'll find towels in the bathroom, sir."

 

Remy understood he was supposed to get moving, but when he sat up, the dizziness returned. To his surprise, he suddenly found Earl at his side, a concerned expression on his wrinkled face. "I'm bien, Earl, don' worry."

 

"Master Warren ordered me to keep an eye on you," said Earl, taking a step away from Remy when the younger man seemed all right.

 

"Why is he dis worried?" Remy frowned. "I don' understand."

 

Earl wisely kept quiet. "The bathroom, sir. Now."

 

Sighing, Remy got to his feet and made his way in to the bathroom. He took off his clothes, stepped in to the shower cabin and let the warm water cascade down his body. After washing and rinsing his hair, he cocooned himself in warm towels and then caught sight of the tube containing the antibiotic ointment Robbins had told him to use before going to sleep. He'd forgotten about it last night, maybe he should do it now? He still felt sore.

 

Not taking any chances he first locked the bathroom door; he didn't want Earl or Warren accidentally walk in on him. After opening the tube, he squeezed a generous amount on to his fingertip. Eager to get it over with, he gently pushed inside and lubricated the passage. He sighed deeply, washing his hands. He hated doing this.

 

"Sir? Are you ready in there? Breakfast is being served."

 

"I'll be out in a second." Remy refused to stare at his reflection and dropped the towels, stepping in to his room after finding that Earl was gone. Earl had kept his word and selected some clothes for him. He slipped into the comfortable slacks, shirt and put on socks and shoes. The plastic bag was still under his bed, containing his leather pants and emergency money supply.... Hold on, he could already start paying Warren back! He had almost four hundred dollars... He stuffed the money in his pocket and followed his nose, which took him to the large kitchen. Warren was already eating breakfast and he gingerly sat down, feeling like an intruder.

 

Earl handed him a large serving of bacon and eggs, and toast. He waited for Earl to leave the kitchen before sliding the money toward Warren. "I wanna pay you back."

 

Warren frowned. "I thought we already covered this?"

 

"It's de rent money."

 

"Remy, I don't want it, I don't need. Use it to buy some personal things for your room."

 

"Non, please take it. Makes me feel betta."

 

Warren gave in. "I'm not going to argue with you about this money. I'll put it on your bank account."

 

"My what?" Remy's eyes widened.

 

"Your bank account," repeated Warren amused.

 

Remy was finally speechless. A bank account? Concentrating on Warren, he sensed something, more than a sense of concern, but he wasn't sure what it was. It confused him.

 

"Would you like to join me for a formal dinner tonight?"

 

Remy's head jerked back. "Uh?"

 

"I'm the guest of honor tonight... First we'll visit the opera. I think they're performing Salome... and afterwards we're invited to a formal dinner at the Commander's Palace. I don't want to go alone..."

 

Remy swallowed hard. "I'll only embarrass you and what if someone recognizes me?"

 

"Then they will keep quiet, because it's in their best interest or their wives might get curious."

 

Warren was right, logically speaking, but that didn't soothe his nerves. "I ain' sure..." Then it occurred to him that it was a way to pay back Warren for his hospitality, the clothes he was wearing and the food he was eating. "I'll be dere."

 

But now Warren no longer seemed convinced. "Maybe it's too early to ask you. You're still feverish and Earl told me you felt dizzy as well."

 

"Non, I can do it, I wanna do it." Remy stared at the food, so far he had eaten only half of it. "I'm jus' nervous."

 

"That's understandable." Warren poked his food as well. "Think it over. If you still want to accompany me let me know before eight? And now take your medication. Let's see if the fever gets worse or not."

 

Feeling strangely numb, Remy swallowed the antibiotics. "Why me? I'm sure you can have anyone you want to accompany you tonight."

 

"I want to show you off."

 

Remy looked up, wondering if he had heard wrong. "Show me off?"

 

"You're handsome, Remy and good company."

 

Okay, he needed a moment to digest that. Johns had called him handsome before, but good company? It almost felt like Warren was genuinely interested in him, but that couldn't be; he was a whore! Fairy tales didn't come true in real life!

 

They finished breakfast in silence and then Warren excused himself, as he had to make some business calls. Remy stayed in the kitchen a little longer, drinking some orange juice, but then decided it was time to return to his room.

 

On his way back to his room, he encountered the library. Why hadn't he seen this room before? It was filled with books and he bitterly regretted being unable to read. He would have loved to lose himself in one of those books like he could lose himself in a good movie. His eyes moved through the room, followed by inquisitive fingers. Gently, he caressed their covers, occasionally opening one to peek inside. The words inside made him dizzy and discouraged, he closed them again.

 

In the end he came across some very large books and his curiosity urged him to open them. Fearing another disappointment, he delighted instead in seeing countless pictures of paintings and sculptures. Looking about, he wondered if he would get away with taking them to his room to look at them at leisure. Making his decision, he selected three books and returned to his room, hoping Warren wouldn't find out.

 

###

 

Earl made his way to Remy's room to inquire if the young man wanted some lunch. It had been hours since he had last seen Remy, since breakfast to be exact, and he was getting worried. Ever since Warren had brought Remy home he had felt protective of the young man. He had never had children of his own and Warren had become somewhat of a son to him, but the millionaire didn't really need him. Remy however, did, and he was more than willing to take on the parental role.

 

At first, he had been a bit hesitant to play along. Warren had forbidden him to reveal his last name to Remy; his identity had to be kept a secret. Why Warren hid his true appearance from Remy was another mystery. Wouldn't it comfort Remy to know that there was another mutant close? But that wasn't his business. He was here to carry out orders and to take care of his newest charge.

 

Arriving at Remy's door, he knocked. "Sir? Would you like some lunch?" Inside the room it stayed silent and he tried the door handle. The door opened and he looked inside. A smile formed on his face, seeing Remy asleep beneath a art book. "So you like Gauguin?" He walked over to Remy, removed the book and watched the young man sleep. The fact that Remy was a hustler didn't faze him, but what did matter was that the boy had been on the streets all his life. Remy didn't know what a home was. "I should let you sleep then..."

 

But those last words woke Remy. The alien eyes fastened on him and Earl's smile brightened. "Lunch?"

 

"Didn' I jus' have breakfast?"

 

"That was several hours ago." Earl's eyes twinkled. "I hope you like it here?"

 

Remy smiled. "Oui, I do. I'd be very sorry if I had to leave."

 

"Leave? You're not leaving." Earl raised his hand to check if Remy was still running a fever and was startled to see the younger man pull away, flinching. Warren had told him about Remy's profession and realized that the young man had been abused in the past. He had to be very careful. Not pulling back, he gently placed his hand on Remy's brow. "It appears the fever has disappeared. Are you still feeling dizzy?"

 

Remy bit his bottom lip, obviously feeling nervous and ashamed for his reaction to the gentle touch. "I feel betta. Dizziness is gone."

 

"Did you already decide whether you will accompany master Warren to the opera?" Earl hoped Remy accepted. Remy needed a distraction.

 

"I guess so," sighed Remy.

 

Earl frowned at the lack of enthusiasm. "Then I will arrange for a tuxedo. It's black tie this evening."

 

"A tuxedo? Merde, I never wore one 'fore. I'll make a fool outta myself."

 

"No, you won't." Earl smiled. You possess a natural elegance people feel envious of.

 

"No lunch, Earl... I'm still stuffed."

 

Suddenly Remy's eyes widened, locking on the books. Earl thought he knew what was upsetting Remy. "They are part of master Warren's collection. I'm sure he'll be delighted to find that you're interested in art."

 

Remy sighed relieved. "Wasn' stealin', jus' burrowin'."

 

"I know that," said Earl reassuringly. "I will return with your tuxedo shortly and master Warren will join you around seven. He's caught up in a board meeting right now."

 

"Board meetin'?"

 

"He runs a large company," said Earl, telling Remy a while lie. Warren didn't want Remy to know he ran the Worthington empire, but one way or the other Remy would find out eventually and then Warren would wish he had leveled with Remy. But that wasn't his problem. He only had to arrange for a tuxedo.

 

###

 

Warren's breath caught, seeing Remy in a tuxedo. Handsome, beautiful, perfect. The women will flock around him. "You look good in a tuxedo." He had changed into one himself and now collected their long, black cloaks. "It's cold out there."

 

"Merci." Remy marveled at the soft fabric of the cloak.

 

"Max will drive us. I hope you'll enjoy Salome. Have you ever been to the opera before?" Seeing Remy's upset expression he berated himself. Smart move, Warren. Remind him he doesn't belong here.

 

"Non, I haven'..." Remy bit his lower lip and let his hair fall in front of his face.

 

"I think you'll like it. Are you ready to go? You took your medication?"

 

"Oui, I did. Earl made sure..."

 

Warren smiled. "Let's go then." He was actually looking forward to this evening. "Earl told me you're interested in art?"

 

"Only wanted to burrow de books, not steal dem!"

 

Warren flinched, being reminded of setting up Remy as a child. "You're not a thief, I know that. And you're welcome to burrow whatever books you find interesting." Remy remained quiet and Warren wondered if he should offer to teach Remy to read and write, but this wasn't the right time for it.

 

They had reached the limousine by now and Max opened the car doors for them. They slipped on to the backseat and Max keyed the ignition.

 

"Are you still sleepy?" inquired Warren.

 

"Non, slept too much anyway. I'm bien. I betta shut up though when we get dere, don' wanna embarrass you."

 

"You can't ever embarrass me," whispered Warren passionately, surprised to find that he really meant it. "Hey, don't act so gloomy. Everything will turn out just fine." In an effort to make real contact with Remy he rested his hand on the younger man's, pleased that Remy didn't flinch or pull back. "I want to show you off, remember?"

 

"Dere ain' rien to show off..."

 

Warren gently squeezed Remy's hand. "We'll see about that."

 

###

 

So far, so good. Remy managed to keep a low profile by hiding his eyes behind his sunglasses. At first people had given him funny looks, but then Warren had come to the rescue, telling them he had sensitive eyes. The women were particularly interested in him, but he also caught a few men staring. Knowing Warren stayed close made him feel safe.

 

The opera was a pleasant surprise. He found he liked the drama, the powerful voices and when he got lost in the story lines Warren told him what was happening plot wise. So far he was having a nice evening out.

 

"Did you enjoy yourself?" asked Warren as they left for the Commander's Palace.

 

"Oui, liked it betta dan I t'ought." Surprised he realized that Warren's hand had captured his and the other man was gently rubbing his skin. Mon Dieu, what's dat 'bout? He allowed it, reminding himself that Warren was paying for everything. At first he found the gentle caresses upsetting, but now he was growing used to them and he even liked the attention. A few of the women had noticed and he heard their hushed whispering.

 

In the car, he remained quiet. Warren still had a tight hold on his hand and he wondered if he should bring it up. He leaned back, relaxed, and briefly closed his eyes. He wasn't looking forward to having dinner with the others. They would expect him to participate in their conversation and he feared embarrassing Warren with his terrible accent.

 

"Are you hungry? The Commander's Palace serves excellent food."

 

"I ain' sure I can eat..."

 

"You're still nervous? Remy, you're doing great. They like you!"

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Dey only like me 'cause I'm wit' you and dey can' see my eyes."

 

Warren shook his head. "Trust me, they like you."

 

The car suddenly came to a stop and Remy realized they had arrived at the restaurant. Trembling, he tried to compose himself. They left the car and he followed Warren inside, trying to smile confidently. They arrived at their table and he felt relieved, finding he was seated next to Warren. They were still holding hands and he squeezed hard, hoping to draw Warren's attention. It worked.

 

"What?"

 

"Merci for not leavin' me 'lone."

 

Warren smiled. "You're with me."

 

Remy noticed the proud tone in that voice. Was it possible that Warren truly cared about him? No, impossible.

 

The waiter handed him the menu and he stared helplessly at the dancing words in front of him. Warren saved him again.

 

"Want me to order for you?"

 

"Please..." He put down the menu and listened to Warren ordering their dishes. He froze completely, suddenly meeting dark eyes from across the room. Nat'aniel? What's he doin' here? As always cold shivers crept down his spine. Nathaniel might have saved his sanity a few times, but the man scared him. Nathaniel signaled him to move to the gents and Remy felt torn. He couldn't leave Warren like that, but he knew Nathaniel well enough to know that the man could make a scene and embarrass them all. Nathaniel was extremely possessive and wouldn't be pleased to find out he was with Warren now.

 

The eyes darkened farther, making it clear that Nathaniel wouldn't accept a no. Remy swallowed hard, looked at Warren and started to free his hand.

 

"What's wrong?" Warren was reluctant to let go and held on.

 

"I need to visit de bat'room..." Remy hoped Warren wouldn't question him further. Fortunately, Warren let go and Remy rose to his feet. He dragged his feet when he made his way over to Nathaniel. The older man always intimidated him. The black hair, moustache and beard gave his face a cold and hard expression. "Salut," he whispered awkwardly. "Sorry dat I wasn' dere."

 

"What are you doing here? With him!"

 

Remy followed the direction Nathaniel pointed in and flinched. "He's helpin'."

 

"Helping? Did you forget that I am the only one who can help you? Who was always there for you when you were hurt? I helped you control your emotions. If it hadn't been for me, you'd be insane now and this is how you thank me? You didn't even leave me a clue as to where to find you!"

 

"Mais Warren said he'd write a note!" Remy felt cornered. Nathaniel was strong, amazingly strong and he had learned the hard way that fighting Nathaniel only brought him pain.

 

"This is over. You're coming with me now! I am not having any of this foolishness."

 

"I don' wanna go back," whispered Remy, intimidated. "Warren treats me well and I like livin' wit' him."

 

"You like living with him? Remy, you're a whore! Men pay to have sex with you. You don't belong with these people. If you have forgotten your place I'll remind you!"

 

Strong fingers curled themselves around his wrist, pulling him toward the exit. He considered fighting, although knowing Nathaniel would easily defeat him. Nathaniel suddenly pulled him along and he looked over his shoulder, searching for Warren in the crowd. Warren was giving a speech and not paying him any attention. So this was how it ended.

 

"Don't you dare fight me, boy!"

 

Remy stopped struggling; it was useless anyway. "What are you gonna do?" He shivered, hoping Nathaniel wouldn't take him to his laboratory. He had only been there once or twice, but he hated the place. It was where Nathaniel had performed surgery on him and afterwards he realized he had great gasps in his memory. "Please don'!" But the other man didn't listen. They were outside now and he was pushed hard against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Big-eyed, he stared at the older man. "Lemme go..."

 

"No, I need to know where you are. You're too precious to me. I can't lose you."

 

Remy yelped when Nathaniel's knee pushed his legs apart. Suddenly, the man was all over him, biting and humping him. In the past, he had seldom refused Nathaniel, who had paid him for his services like the next john, but this time things were different. Warren and Earl had made him see how important it was to heal, to take care of himself and he didn't want to do this. "Non, stop it! I don' want you to..."

 

"Shut up, Remy." Nathaniel's face was contorted. "I need you, I need this..." Nathaniel tightly grabbed his hands and pinned them against the wall. "Don't fight me. You know you can't win."

 

"Don'..." begged Remy. "Don' do dis." Sharp teeth buried themselves in his neck and he shook violently, feeling the other man's erection against his ass. In the past he had allowed this, but not anymore, but unfortunately he was unable to stop this. "Stop it!"

 

"He told you to stop. Now back off and leave him alone." Warren's voice carried a dangerous tone. "Move away from him."

 

Remy's heart missed a beat, hearing that now familiar voice. Warren had followed him outside? But he had been giving that speech? How could Warren possibly have seen him leave? Nathaniel's face was very close and he could smell the other man's metallic breath. He wanted to tell Warren to be careful, but his voice failed him. He could only stare at Nathaniel's face. Seldom had Nathaniel reacted this violently and Remy wasn't sure how far Nathaniel would go.

 

Nathaniel didn't let go, but turned slightly to face the new arrival. "Stay out of this. This is between a whore and his customer."

 

Remy's breath hitched, feeling humiliated. "He knows what I am..."

 

Nathaniel laughed loudly. "I doubt that." Leaning in closer, he dragged the tip of his tongue across Remy's face.

 

Remy tried to pull back, but Nathaniel's hold was too tight. Maybe he should give in, at least then Warren wouldn't get hurt. "I won' fight."

 

"That's a smart boy. Do you hear that? He's coming willingly," sneered Nathaniel.

 

"No, he's not. He's staying here with me and you're leaving." Warren prepared himself for an ugly fight. He didn't know Remy's attacker, but that didn't stop him. Unleashing his wings, he counted on the element of surprise as his wings were still hidden from sight.

 

"Don't you dare come closer, Angel." Nathaniel's eyes narrowed. "Stay out of this."

 

"No, Remy's with me." Warren registered the fact that the attacker had called him Angel. How did the man know that he was an X-Man? Only a few people knew that Warren Worthington and Angel were the same person.

 

Remy was too busy fighting for his next breath to catch the word. Nathaniel was slowly suffocating him and it wouldn't be long before he'd pass out. Suddenly, things happened too fast for him to fully understand. Nathaniel's face began to change, became metallic and the dark eyes turned red. The fingers that were squeezing the life out of him consisted of cold metal and he stared at the monstrosity in disbelief. What had happened to Nathaniel and who was this creature?

 

"Mister Sinister?" Warren barely believed his eyes. So that was why the attacker had known his identity. Switching off the device that cloaked his appearance, he spread his wings and moved in. Sinister apparently didn't expect the attack and Warren delivered a kick to the mutant's chest. Caught off balance, Sinister had to release Remy, whose lips were turning blue. "I've got you..." whispered Warren, but Remy was barely conscious. A moment later, the alien eyes closed.

 

Warren pushed away his anger at seeing the ugly bite marks on Remy's neck and took to the sky. With Sinister close, he didn't dare return to the car. He would call Max later and tell him to drive home. Looking down, he saw Sinister's red eyes flash in the darkness and he sped up. What did the mad scientist want with Remy? He had to find out, in both their interest. Relishing the wind beneath his wings, he set course for the penthouse.

 

###

 

Sinister glared at the white wings, tempted to blast Angel to pieces, but then Remy would fall and die in the process. No, he had to wait. His chance would come. Remy was his, and Warren had no idea what he had gotten himself in to. "He's mine... He'll always be mine..."

 

###

 

Earl was rummaging in the living room, replacing dead flowers with fresh ones when he heard the tapping against the window. "Warren?" Warren seldom flew to the penthouse, but when he did he always landed on the balcony. Earl walked over to the balcony doors and his eyes widened, seeing Warren holding Remy. "What happened?" After opening the door, he stepped aside to let them enter. He noticed that Warren was no longer hiding his wings and Remy's face showed tiny wounds which were bleeding and a larger wound on his throat.

 

"Sinister attacked Remy." Warren felt relieved that Earl knew of most villains the X-Men fought and that he didn't need to explain the mad scientist to Earl. "I was only just in time to prevent worse. Get the first aid kit, Remy's bleeding and we need to make sure the wounds don't get infected."

 

Earl hurried to collect the first aid kit and followed Warren in to his private rooms. Warren placed Remy on his bed and began to examine the damage done by Sinister.

 

"It looks superficial," Warren said relieved. He took a step back and let Earl tend to the wounds. "I just don't get it. What does Sinister want with Remy?"

 

Earl shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sure you will find out. Did Remy see your wings?"

 

"I don't think so. He was as good as unconscious when I flew away. By the look on his face I'm guessing he didn't know it was Sinister. Nathaniel... The name should have alerted me, but I didn't give it any second thought."

 

Earl put some butterfly bandages on Remy's wounds and sat back. "What are you going to do now?"

 

"Contact the X-Men. He's safer at Westchester where we can keep an eye on him. Sinister could sneak in here using a tesseract and take us by surprise."

 

"I'll make sure the security system is on at all times," promised Earl. "It looks like he might be in shock."

 

"I should contact Hank and..." Warren never got to finish his sentence as Remy's eyes fluttered open. Suddenly he realized that the cloaking device wasn't on and his wings were clearly visible. If Remy hadn't seen them at the Commander's Palace, he now had. Shit...

 

###

 

Feeling dizzy and weak, Remy managed to focus his glance. His breathing stopped briefly, finding that Warren's appearance had changed. A pair of magnificent wings adored his back, giving him the impression of an angel. Angel, that was what Nathaniel... the monster... had called Warren! Confused, he stared at his savior. "I don' understand..."

 

"Remy..." Warren sat down in a chair next to the bed. "I'm a mutant, like you. I sprouted wings when I was a teenager."

 

"A mutant?" Remy frowned, trying to make sense of everything. "You got wings..."

 

"Yes, and my codename is Angel. I'm part of the X-Men, did you ever hear about them?"

 

Remy shook his head. "Non..." Staying on top of the news hadn't been his priority when he had lived on the streets.

 

"You'll meet them in a few days. They're nice people."

 

Oh, what was going on? Why did he have to meet the X-Men? Was Warren already getting tired of him? Was he being dumped? "Did I do somet'in' wrong?"

 

Warren shook his head firmly. "No, you did nothing wrong. Why do you think that?"

 

"T'ought you wanted me to stay wit' you... Should have known betta." What use was he to Warren while he was healing? The one thing he was good for was providing sexual favors. Warren had almost made him believe differently. "I'll let you fuck me if I can stay..." He didn't want to leave. Nathaniel had scared him by changing his appearance and the only person he trusted was Warren... and maybe Earl. Suddenly he realized that Earl was still present and had heard his offer. How stupid could he be?

 

Warren sat down on the side of the bed and unexpectedly covered Remy's hand with his. Earl left the room, giving them some privacy and Remy tried again. "Everyt'in's a mess... What happened to Nat'aniel? He changed in to a monster..." The memories made him shiver.

 

"Your Nathaniel is a known villain called Mister Sinister. He's a scientist who genetically altered his body and he made a deal that earned him his armor. How did you ever meet up with him?"

 

Remy welcomed the change of topic. "I've known him for most of my life. He's one of my regulars... And sometimes he helped me out... financially... A few years ago I t'ought I was goin' insane... I was feelin' everyt'in' so intense dat I even considered killin' myself. He took me to his laboratory, performed surgery on me and de feelings became bearable 'gain."

 

Warren whistled softly. "Sounds to me like you might be an empath, Remy."

 

"A what?" He had never heard that word before.

 

"You can sense other people's emotions, that's why you felt everything so intensely. I don't know what kind of surgery he performed, but he found a way to control your feelings."

 

"I didn' know he was someone else..." Remy's glance drifted off to Warren's wings, wondering if Warren would allow him to touch them. However, he didn't dare ask. "Merci for helpin' me. Nat'aniel's strong, too strong."

 

"You fought him off before?"

 

"I tried, mais failed." Feeling embarrassed, Remy averted his eyes. "Dere was 'ways a price for his help."

 

"I can imagine what it was," said Warren, bitterly. "But he won't get away with hurting you again, I promise."

 

Warren's words made Remy frown. "I don' understand..." Remy licked his lips, gathering his courage. "Don' understand why you want me 'round."

 

Warren sighed deeply. "Remy, I never sought out a prostitute before because I don't believe in paid love, but I thank God it was you. I... don't know how to say this, but... I have developed feelings for you..."

 

"Feelings?" His fingers clawed the comforter. All this information was making him dizzy. First, Nathaniel turned out to be a villain called Mister Sinister, then Warren turned out to have wings and to be a mutant and now the other man had feelings for him? Hesitantly he met Warren's eyes.

 

"I think I'm falling in love with you," admitted Warren in a choked tone.

 

"In love?" Remy laughed, embittered. "Homme, I'm a whore!"

 

"You were forced to survive the only way you knew how and you did. That doesn't make you a bad person, Remy."

 

Tears appeared in his eyes. "Say dat 'gain?"

 

"You're a good person, Remy, and I like you."

 

Embarrassed at being this emotional, Remy wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. "No one ever said dat 'fore." His breath caught when Warren leaned in closer, staring deeply in to his eyes. The attraction was there, staring back at him. A soft moan left his throat as Warren leaned in closer to gently kiss his lips. In bliss, he closed his eyes, savoring a moment which couldn't be happening. People only wanted his body, not his mind! But this felt somehow different. No one had ever kissed him this gently.

 

Warren's lips deserted his and his eyes flashed open. Surprised, he noticed that Warren was blushing.

 

"This is not the time to explore this." Warren composed himself again. "I need to contact the X-Men and to make sure Sinister can't get to you."

 

Remy felt flabbergasted. "Did you really kiss me?"

 

"Yeah, I did. Hope you liked it."

 

"Oui, I did... mais why did you do it?"

 

"Because I want to give this a try... not yet, not now, but once Sinister is out of the picture."

 

Remy shook his head in disbelief. "You can' love me, no one does."

 

"Remy..." Warren smiled saddened. "Let's give this time, okay?"

 

Remy nodded his head. "Oui..." He wasn't going to push his luck; he would let Warren take the lead.

 

###

 

When Remy woke again, he found himself lying in a strange bed. Looking about, he realized he was in Warren's room, but the other man was nowhere in sight. Giving himself another moment to gather his thoughts, he sighed deeply. Warren was a mutant; possessed wings and resembled an angel. Mon Dieu, that was something he'd never thought possible.

 

He had never given much thought to the fact that there were other mutants in the world. In his entire life he had never met one, or he had thought so, seeing Nathaniel change in to Sinister had made him realize that he had been manipulated most of his life.

 

Absentmindedly his fingers touched the bandage on his throat. Nathaniel had nearly squeezed the life out of him. If it hadn't been for Warren, he might be dead now. Alarmed he wondered what would happen if Nathaniel tried again?

 

He jerked upright, and the dizziness returned. Taking deep breaths, he managed to calm down. He swung his feet on to the floor and rose from the bed. Where was Warren? He really wanted to talk to the man. An embittered laugh escaped from his lips. The X-factor had given him demon eyes and Warren had received an angel's wings. There was no justice in this world!

 

Cautiously, he made his way out of the bedroom and suddenly found himself in a private study. Warren sat behind the desk, studying some papers. Remy cleared his throat, not wanting to disturb Warren, but still hoping the other man would talk to him.

 

Warren looked up, put down the papers and smiled. "Awake again?"

 

Remy stared at the feather wings, and was reminded of the fact that Warren really was a mutant. "How does it feel?"

 

"What?" Warren rose from behind the desk and walked over to Remy.

 

"Havin' wings."

 

"It felt weird at first, but that changed after I flew for the first time." A blissful smile flashed across Warren's face. "You feel the wind beneath you, the sun and clouds above you... It's special."

 

"Wish I hadn' been unconscious..." Remy managed a smile filled with regrets. "Why didn' you tell me? Why hide your wings?"

 

"I'm not sure," admitted Warren. "I didn't want things to overwhelm you. You left your life behind and too many changes might have upset you."

 

"Knowin' you have wings wouldn' upset me." Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Nat'aniel knows you, how?" This had bugged him for some time.

 

"As I said before, we fought him, but I'm surprised he recognized with the image inducer on."

 

"I like you betta dis way," admitted Remy shyly. His hands itched to touch those wings, but he wasn't going to impose to himself on Warren.

 

"You want to touch them, don't you?"

 

Feeling caught, Remy shook his head. "C'est bien, don' need to touch dem to know dey're dere."

 

"No, it's okay, Remy. I shouldn't have mislead you, but..." Warren seemed about to make another revelation but then reconsidered. Instead, he walked over to Remy.

 

Remy swallowed nervously when Warren gently covered his hand with his, guiding them to his wings. The feathers were incredibly soft and strong at the same time and he wished he had been given wings instead of demon eyes.

 

"I'll take you for a ride later," promised Warren. "But first I need to contact Hank and let them know we're heading for Westchester... You are coming with me, aren't you, Remy?"

 

Remy heard the uncertainty in Warren's voice. "Made dat decision when I let you write dat note... Can' go back and don' wanna go back."

 

"Excellent. I'll ask Hank to inform the others and in the meantime I'll tell you about them. Let's sit down and maybe we can have some tea?"

 

"C'est bien..." Remy followed Warren to the couch where they sat surprisingly close together. Acting on impulse, he slowly placed his hand on top of Warren, who smiled approvingly. "Tell me 'bout de X-Men..."

 

###

 

"What are you doing up? It's only four in the morning and we won't be leaving until nine. You could get some more sleep..." And you look like you need it, Remy. Ever since you saw Essex morph into Sinister you appear nervous. I wish I had realized the truth earlier. It makes perfect sense that Sinister is interested in you. You're probably a very strong empath.

 

"I feel restless." Remy shrugged and walked over to the window, looking out on the city's brilliant lights. "I could fall in love wit' de view."

 

"We can come back once we solved this little problem with Sinister," offered Warren, more than willing to please Remy, but there was something that nagged at him. "Can I ask you something personal?" Remy shrunk in to himself and Warren immediately regretted putting Remy through this. "It's about the surgery you mentioned."

 

Remy sighed, slightly relieved. "Oui."

 

Remy probably expected a different question, most likely about prostituting himself and living on the streets. "Let's sit down first?" Warren walked over to the bed and patted the space next to him. Remy didn't disappoint him and sat down beside him. "Why did Sinister perform surgery on you? You said something about your feelings being too intense?"

 

"Oui, dat's it." Remy blinked, and then composed himself again. "Dose ain' pleasant memories."

 

Warren nodded. "Go on."

 

"I don' know when it started... Sometimes I knew how people felt 'bout me and at one point I couldn' t'ink straight 'cause deir feelings were in my head. Didn' go outside for weeks, couldn' earn my money, didn' eat and den Nat'aniel appeared. At first he was jus' a john. He paid to fuck me, was kinda possessive, mais de money was bien. I felt weird, and he told me dat he could help me. Suddenly I was at dis lab, didn' even remember gettin' dere and he performed surgery on me. Still got a scar on my neck... After dat I could cope wit' de feelings..."

 

Warren was certain that Remy was an empath at least, maybe even a telepath and the younger man needed to talk to Hank and Charles about his gifts. "And now? Can you still feel feelings? Can you feel mine?"

 

Remy shrugged once more. "I ain' sure. I feel like I can trust you, dat doesn' happen too often and I'm afraid to act on it."

 

"Remy, why is Sinister this possessive of you? When I helped you at the Commander's Palace he was trying to hurt you, he tried to choke you."

 

"Don' know, homme. When he fucked me he always said I belonged to him. I let him, de money was bien..."

 

Warren licked his lips, feeling uncomfortable asking this next question. "Remy, do you know your parents?"

 

"Non, my earliest memory is runnin' 'bout on de streets wit' some older chil'ren, dat's all I know."

 

"Remy, can I see the scar you just mentioned? I wonder what Sinister did to weaken your mutant powers." Something felt wrong. Warren didn't know what it was, but this didn't sound like typical behavior Sinister displayed. The professor had told them that Sinister no longer possessed emotions, so how could he grow aroused? Had it something to do with Remy's empathic abilities? If that was it, Sinister would never leave Remy alone.

 

"Oui, I don' mind..." Remy unbuttoned his shirt, slipped it down one shoulder and brushed his long locks out of the way. "Here..."

 

Warren's fingers gently explored the back of Remy's neck, surprised at how erotic it felt. "Yes, I feel something... He placed something beneath your skin. Did he tell you what it is?"

 

"Non, I felt it after I got back to my room, mais I don' know what it is... Nat'aniel always touched it when we fucked..."

 

Warren's eyes widened. Damned, what if Sinister controls Remy's abilities through this little device? He installs an on and off button, switching it on when he wants to get aroused and off when he leaves, making sure Remy doesn't go insane. "Remy, what was it like when you had sex with him?" Remy paled and Warren wished he could take back those words. "Sorry, but I need to know if it felt different..."

 

"Difrent?"

 

"Compared to another customer. Did you feel everything more intense?"

 

"Most of de time, oui, 'ways felt ashamed dat I'd come when he fucked me. Doesn' happen wit' o'ter johns."

 

That made sense. Warren sighed, tempted to manipulate the device to find out if his theory was correct, but dismissed the idea at once. Remy had been victimized too many times and that had to stop. "I'll ask Hank to have a look at it."

 

"Hank's de doctor, oui?" Remy felt nervous and quickly buttoned up his shirt now Warren was done with his exploration.

 

"Yes, and he's a friendly guy. He's nothing like Sinister." Warren wondered how Remy would react once Hank really wanted to examine him and remove the device. "You can trust him. And I think you should also talk to the professor. You're probably an empath and you need to learn how to use that ability."

 

"And you'll stay? Won' leave me dere 'lone?"

 

"I don't think I could leave you even if I had to," joked Warren, but it was the truth. He was growing attached to Remy; he really liked the younger man. I still have to tell him who I really am. I can't move on before I do that. But he was too much of a coward to try now. "Try to get some sleep, Remy?"

 

Remy nodded, but his eyes were alert and awake. He wouldn't get much sleep tonight.

 

###

 

"How are we gonna travel?" Remy hadn't gotten any sleep last night and felt edgy. Another great change was about to take place in his life and he didn't know what to make of it. What had shaken him the worst was Warren's admission that the other man was developing feelings for him. No one had ever proclaimed such feelings for him before and it confused him. Maybe he should tell Warren that he'd never had a lover, just johns?

 

"Scott and Bobby will pick us up. They're flying in on the Blackbird."

 

"Blackbird?" Remy frowned. "What's dat?"

 

"A very special plane," hinted Warren, "You'll see."

 

That didn't really reassure Remy, but he decided not to question Warren further. Earl appeared, carrying their bags and the older man placed them near the window. Why there? Weren't they leaving by car? Mon Dieu, the plane couldn't possibly land on the balcony!

 

"I hope you'll have a pleasant flight," said Earl, "And I hope you'll come back soon. Having you here was a pleasure."

 

Earl, he was going to miss Earl. Although he had only stayed here for a few days, he had really grown to like the older man. He hated good-byes and tried to avoid them when possible. Shuffling his feet, he hoped Earl would leave without saying good-bye, that would make things easier. His emotions sometimes got the better of him, even in spite of the implanted device.

 

"Warren..." Earl walked over to his employee and gave him a fatherly hug.

 

Remy moved away from them, not wanting to infringe on their privacy, afraid and relieved at the same time. Afraid because Earl might want to give him a hug as well and then he would get emotional; relieved because deep down he couldn't believe Earl would actually want to hug him. He turned away from them, watching the blue sky instead.

 

"Sir? Remy?"

 

Remy flinched involuntarily. Earl stood behind him and was waiting for him to acknowledge him. Mon Dieu, what should he do?

 

"I will surely miss you and I hope we will meet again in the future," said Earl, sincerely.

 

Remy slowly turned around, finally facing Earl. The older man had cocked his head, and was trying to catch his glance. Feeling nervous, Remy found the courage to make eye contact. "I'll miss you too, mon ami." Earl had quickly become the father figure he had never known. Earl moved suddenly and Remy froze when two gentle arms enfolded him. Earl was giving him a hug! Merde, he couldn't start crying now! He shyly returned the embrace, trying to ignore the stray tear that had escaped from his right eye. "I'll miss you..."

 

"But you will be back," said Earl confidently. "Right, Warren?"

 

"Yes, we'll be back," promised Warren.

 

Remy nodded once, not sure he believed Warren. Maybe he was too afraid to hope that things would work out for once in his life. "I hope so..."

 

Earl finally let go of him and the older man gave him a warm smile. "There's always the telephone... Or you could write an old man."

 

Remy bit his lip, wishing he could write. "Oui, dere's de phone..."

 

A buzzing sound unexpectedly interrupted their good-byes and when he looked up, he saw a dark plane hanging in front of the window.

 

"The Blackbird's arrived." Warren opened the balcony doors, took hold of their bags, spread his wings and flew toward the plane.

 

Remy had grown silent, seeing those magnificent white wings. He even felt envious. Warren's gift was very special, maybe even blessed. Earl's hand settled on his back, pulling him from his musings.

 

"Don't forget to write or call, sir."

 

"I'll keep in touch." But he knew he was making a promise he might not be able to keep. But he would try hard to keep it.

 

"Are you ready to go?" Warren returned, landed and walked toward Remy.

 

Remy swallowed nervously. "Doesn' de plane land?"

 

"No, I'll take us there."

 

Remy gulped. "Uh..." He had hoped Warren would take him flying, like the other man had promised, but not like this. "How do you wanna do dat?" He held his breath as Warren came to a halt behind him.

 

"Just hold on."

 

Warren's arms wrapped themselves around his waist, and suddenly his feet no longer touched the floor. A moment later, they left the penthouse behind and headed for the Blackbird. He had to admit that the plane looked impressive. Then he recalled the names Warren had mentioned. Apparently Scott, the leader of the X-Men, and Bobby Drake were onboard. Warren had told him about their mutations, but he didn't really know what to expect.

 

Warren entered the plane through one of the hatches and although flying had been a special experience Remy was glad to feel a floor beneath his feet.

 

"Remy, meet Scott... and Bobby," said Warren, smiling.

 

Remy prepared for the worst, having no idea how the two men would react when seeing his eyes. Apprehensively, he looked up and made eye contact with them.

 

###

 

Oh, that's something else... Bobby momentarily forgot to breathe, seeing Remy's red and black eyes. Warren had told them what to expect, but he was still surprised. Composing himself, he walked up to Remy, extended his hand and smiled. "Hi, I'm Bobby."

 

He noticed the glance Remy gave Warren, and Warren's nod, before Remy hesitantly shook his hand. Remy made a very shy and nervous impression and, knowing Scott, their leader got the same impression. "And this is Scott."

 

Again, Remy accepted Scott's handshake, but then moved closer to Warren once more. Bobby couldn't help but wonder about the two of them. Warren had told him that he had found Remy in New Orleans and that the Cajun was homeless, but judging from the nervous and almost scared expression on Remy's face there was more to it than Warren was telling them.

 

"Strap yourself in," said Bobby and pointed at one of the chairs. "This will only take thirty minutes."

 

"I'll help you," offered Warren and helped Remy put on the seatbelts. Then he took the seat next to him and repeated the procedure.

 

Bobby walked in to the front of the plane and took the co-pilot's seat. "What do you think, Slim?"

 

"Warren didn't tell us everything."

 

"Very observant..."

 

"That's why I'm the leader," joked Scott.

 

"Smartass..." Bobby kept looking over his shoulder. "He looks younger than I thought."

 

"According to Warren, Remy's nineteen." Scott concentrated on flying the plane, but cast a glance in Remy's direction as well. "Those eyes are like nothing I've ever seen before."

 

"I wonder if he tends to hide them behind glasses," mused Bobby aloud. "And did you see those bandages?"

 

"Sinister attacked him, remember?"

 

"Yeah." Bobby nodded his head. "Hank's gonna love this one..."

 

"Poor kid," said Scott compassionately. "Hank will keep Remy in his lab for the next few days..."

 

"Tormenting him with those horrible tests," finished Bobby for his friend.

 

"I'm going to contact the professor, let him know when we arrive."

 

Bobby nodded once. Looking at Remy, he somehow pitied the Cajun. The alien eyes were suspicious and didn't trust easy. Remy's entire body posture told of distrust and fear. Hopefully we can change that. Maybe when he can control his empathy the professor will ask him to join the X-Men? I like him, it might be fun to have him around...

 

###

 

Remy found himself on strange territory when the Blackbird landed. Through one of the windows Warren pointed out the mansion to him, and slowly he was starting to understand what he had gotten himself in to. He didn't know these people and although Bobby seemed friendly, he didn't trust them. Warren was the only one he trusted, but still only to a certain degree.

 

"Home sweet home," said Bobby cheerfully.

 

Remy quickly grabbed his bag, not wanting them to accidentally see his personal stuff like Tails. They would make fun of him and he didn't want them to think less of him just because a stuffed animal was his security blanket. "I'll carry dat..." He noticed the surprised look on Bobby's face and almost apologized. Luckily for him Warren pulled him along and then guided him in to the house.

 

"Jean and Hank cleaned your room," said Bobby. "And it's next to mine..."

 

Remy cringed. He wanted to be close to Warren! He didn't know these people at all!

 

"And mine," added Warren calmly.

 

Remy sighed relieved. Looking up, he saw a red headed girl and a man in a wheelchair. That must be Jean and the professor. Warren had told him that Jean was the only girl around and that Charles Xavier was confined to a wheelchair.

 

"Jean!" Warren released the hold he had had on Remy's wrist and walked toward Jean, glad to see her again. "It's good to be back!"

 

Jean smiled and returned his hug.

 

"Warren, I take it this is Remy?" Charles smiled at Warren, but then directed his glance at Remy.

 

Remy felt uncomfortable, being the center of such attention. "Oui, I'm Remy..." He peeked at Warren, who nodded encouragingly.

 

"I hope you'll like it here. For some of my students it has become home. Bobby, why don't you take Remy to his room while I talk to Warren?" Charles instantly sensed Remy's unease, but didn't change his plans. He wanted to talk to Warren in private.

 

Being separated from Warren made Remy feel even more anxious, but he didn't dare object. Charles radiated a natural authority that for some reason intimidated him. Why did the man remind him of Nathaniel? Charles suddenly frowned and Remy startled. Merde, Warren had told him that the older man was a telepath, but he hadn't thought Xavier would be reading his mind! He forced himself to stop thinking, to let his mind go blank and he quickly followed Bobby upstairs, where the other man pointed out a door in the corridor. Forcing himself to pay attention, he listened to Bobby's pleasant voice.

 

"This is your room; we cleaned it up and tried to make you comfortable." Bobby opened the door.

 

Remy looked inside, surprised to find that the room was rather large. The furniture existed of a bed, desk, chairs and even a small couch in a corner of the room. "C'est bien."

 

"Hey, you speak French? Cool." Bobby grinned, stepped into the room and signaled Remy to follow. "You have your own bathroom," said Bobby, opening another door. "There's a com system so we can stay in touch, a TV and a phone if you wanna make a call." Bobby walked over to the window and grinned. "It's gonna snow..."

 

Remy saw the wicked expression in Bobby's eyes and wondered if he should feel afraid.

 

"I feel like throwing some snowballs later..." Bobby's grin sparkled as he moved back toward the corridor. "Dinner's in one hour. The dining room is downstairs. Get settled in first."

 

"Merci." Remy collapsed on the bed after Bobby closed the door behind him. So this was his new home? He had to admit that it was way better than his old room, where the building was infested with rats, mice and nasty bugs. Everything here was clean and the room even looked cozy. If only Warren was close! He reached in to his bag and uncovered Tails. "Dis is our new home, mon ami..." If Sinister let him.

 

###

 

Warren knocked on Remy's door and wasn't disappointed. Only a few seconds later, Remy opened the door to let him in. Remy looked haunted and out of place. "Is something wrong?"

 

"Don' feel like I belon' here," admitted Remy.

 

"Give it time." Warren smiled. "It's time for dinner. Hungry?"

 

"No really..."

 

"Nervous, huh?" Warren caught a look of Tails, sitting on the bed. "Let's go. Hank's dying to meet you." But it was obvious that Remy wasn't looking forward to meeting the man who was going to examine him and run tests on him. "Just remember, you're among friends." He thought back to his conversation with Charles. Although he felt like he had betrayed Remy's trust in him, he had told Charles everything the professor needed to know, including Remy's former profession and him ruining Remy's life as a child. But he still had to tell Remy that he was the same Warren who had set him up as a thief. Tonight, after dinner he would try to tell Remy the truth.

 

Remy followed him downstairs; his expression was worried and lost. Warren reached out, took hold of Remy's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "It's going to be okay." Remy locked eyes with him and Warren hoped that the other man sensed his sincerity.

 

They entered the dining room and Warren looked about. Everyone was present. All except one had already been introduced to Remy and Hank rose to his feet, offering Remy his hand.

 

"I'm Hank. We will be spending the next few days in my lab. I hope I can help you."

 

Remy nodded shyly and made eye contact with Warren, who sighed. Remy's self confidence needed a big booster. "Let's sit down and eat." Remy obeyed, but then stared at the food. "Is anything wrong?" Warren frowned, hoping Remy had remembered to take his medication. He would ask later.

 

"Jean and Bobby made lasagna," said Scott. "That means Warren and Remy can do the dishes later. Bobby and Hank did them yesterday."

 

"Huh, you could do the dishes for a change," mused Jean as she tasted her cooking.

 

"I need to supervise everything," joked Scott, but then he gave in. "I'll cook tomorrow..."

 

"That's a deal!" Bobby dug in enthusiastically. "I want a six course meal then..."

 

"Don't push your luck, Drake."

 

Their bantering seemed to relax Remy and Warren exchanged a knowing smile with Jean. This was a new start for Remy and maybe they had even found a new teammate.

 

###

 

"Doing the dishes..." mumbled Warren. "This wouldn't have happened if we'd stayed with Earl."

 

Remy actually managed a smile. "Don' mind doin' dem, dinner was bien." Dinner had been a pleasant surprise. The bantering had put him at ease and Charles' absence had helped as well.

 

"Are you still taking the antibiotics? I completely forgot about them," asked Warren, while putting away the dishes

 

"Oui, I am. Didn' wanna take any risks." Remy hoped Warren would let the subject matter rest. He was taking care of himself and discussing it made him nervous.

 

"Hank's expecting you to check in with him tonight." Warren caught the distressed expression in Remy's eyes. "Do you want me to accompany you?"

 

Remy's breath caught. "Would you do dat for me?"

 

"Sure, why not?"

 

The look Warren gave him told Remy that the older man really cared. "Merci, oui, please stay wit' me."

 

"No problem." Warren finished putting everything away and then rested his hand on Remy's shoulder. "Let's go. We don't want to keep Hank waiting."

 

Reluctantly Remy followed him. Jus' stay close. I'm nervous...

 

###

 

"Please lay down and try not to move." Hank smiled reassuringly as Remy laid down. He was going to run a cat scan on Remy to find out where exactly Sinister's device was located and if the scientist had implanted other devices as well. "Warren and I are in the next room. There's no need to be nervous, Remy." Judging by Remy's expression the younger man didn't believe him and he didn't blame Remy at all. Had he been in Remy's shoes, he would have been apprehensive as well.

 

Remy finally gave in, lying down and closing his eyes. Hank nodded approvingly and signaled Warren to follow. He wanted to check the results ASAP.

 

Hank entered the next room and switched on the scanner. Instantly it began delivering scans of Remy's brains, and cerebral cortex. Yes, Sinister had definitely implanted a device and its tendrils disappeared into the cerebellum. He wasn't sure he could remove it without causing brain damage. "This looks complicated."

 

"Can you help him?" Warren saw the device as well after Hank pointed it out to him. "Sinister somehow manipulated the device, making Remy's emotions more intense."

 

Hank magnified one scan. "It almost looks like a switch... I need to perform surgery to find out more. Do you think Remy would agree to that?"

 

"I'm not sure," admitted Warren.

 

"From the looks of it, the device might have several dials... I count four. Maybe Sinister used them to raise Remy's empathy to the level he desired."

 

"What level is it on now?" Warren frowned, feeling worried.

 

"It's not on. You could say it's on standby." Hank noticed Remy's growing agitation and decided to release the young man from his agony. He had already taken a blood sample and ran several tests on him. The rest could wait until tomorrow. He also had to report his newest findings to Charles. "Should I tell him now?"

 

Warren nodded. "Yes, he deserves to know the truth."

 

Hank and Warren returned to the exam room and helped Remy back to his feet. The scared expression in Remy's eyes got to Hank. "It's going to be all right, my friend. We found a device, just as you already suspected. It has dials and that's how Sinister managed to raise your level of emotional consciousness. I can tell you more after I had a close look at it, but that means you would have to go through surgery."

 

"Non," whispered Remy. The news clearly upset him.

 

"It's too much to deal with right now," said Hank, understanding Remy's confusion and fear. "Why don't you sleep on it and we discuss this in the morning?"

 

"Don' wanna go t'rough surgery 'gain..."

 

"Remy, listen to Hank. You need some rest, think this over and you can have all the time you need to make up your mind." Warren reached for Remy's hand, who eagerly accepted.

 

Hank smiled, seeing them holding hands. He'd had the impression that there was something going on between the two men, but didn't want to pry. "I'll see you in the morning then. One word of advice, Remy. Don't tamper with the device. Leave it alone."

 

"Don' even wanna touch it." Remy's voice carried an upset tone.

 

"Let's go." Warren was eager to get Remy out of the lab.

 

Hank smiled, watching them leave. They would be back tomorrow and he didn't doubt that Warren would convince Remy to do the sensible thing. Maybe he could help Remy, providing the young man let him.

 

### 

 

Warren escorted Remy to his room, then watched the younger man closely, trying to find out if this was a good time to talk about their past. Remy seemed distressed, nervously shuffling his feet; he looked panicked and Warren realized that he should give Remy some time to recover from Hank's tests. Maybe they could talk tomorrow. "Night, Remy, and remember I'm in the next room." Remy had felt lost spending those first nights at the penthouse and he suspected the young man felt even more out of place here.

 

"Oui, and merci for stayin'. I hate bein' examined." Remy's hand found the doorhandle and slowly pushed it down.

 

Warren smiled, nodded and walked over to his own room. A moment later, he heard Remy's door open and close as well. He headed for the bathroom, took a quick shower and dressed in boxers and a T-shirt. All that time he couldn't stop thinking of Remy and the discovery they had made. Sinister had implanted a device with dials in Remy's cerebral cortex, tendrils reaching into the brain tissue. That sounded dangerous. What if Hank's fear came true and they couldn't remove it?

 

Lying down on his bed, he switched on the TV to watch the news, but his thoughts continued to drift off to Remy. Maybe they could use the device to their advantage? By entering level one first, Remy could get used to the first signs of emotions, then they could try level two while Remy and the professor worked on strengthening his shields. Yes, that would work.

 

Unable to concentrate on the news, Warren switched off the TV and then the lights. Being back at Westchester always helped him sleep. He knew his friends were close and no villain could get to him or Remy! He pulled the comforter up to his shoulders and closed his eyes. Bobby still maintained that it would start to snow tonight and he feared Bobby in a 'natural environment', losing every snow ball fight they'd ever had.

 

He was just dozing off when a knock on the door kept him from falling asleep. Maybe he had imagined it? Warren shrugged, and pushed deeper in to the comfort of the mattress, ready to finally fall asleep.

 

Then the knock sounded again, and again, and again... and was eventually followed by a whispered, "Warren?"

 

"Remy?" Warren sat upright in bed, pushed down the comforter and swung his feet on to the floor. "Brrr..." It was cold all right, but it didn't keep him from covering the distance to the door. Opening it, he wondered what Remy was doing here.

 

"Can' sleep," admitted Remy when the door opened fully. He felt relieved, seeing Warren. It was lonely in his room and the silence and strange surroundings only added to his misery. Even Tails couldn't reassure him.

 

Warren saw Remy shiver. The younger man was also wearing a shirt and boxers, but the items did little to fight off the nightly cold. "Come inside. Is something wrong? Why aren't you in bed?"

 

"Can' sleep," repeated Remy, shivering. His teeth chattered and he wrapped his arms around his waist. "Don' feel safe here. It's... new." And he couldn't stop thinking about Hank, the device in his head, the upcoming surgery... His entire life was about to change and that frightened him. "Can I sleep here? Can sleep on de floor, dat's no problem. I jus'... don' wanna be 'lone," he admitted gingerly, barely making eye contact with Warren.

 

"You don't have to sleep on the floor. We slept in the same bed before, but this time we'll behave."

 

"I'm as good as healed up... We can have sex..."

 

"No," said Warren firmly. If he really wanted this to evolve in to a serious relationship Remy had to come to him out of love and passion and not out of guilt and a sense of owing him. "Come on, let's go back to bed. It's cold out here." He closed the door and headed back to the bed, where he found Remy, staring at it. "It's okay, come on." He slipped beneath the covers and then patted the space next to him. Remy shyly accepted, laid down and rolled on to his right side, facing him. The look in those alien eyes made him swallow hard. Earlier this evening he had decided to tell Remy who he really was and to apologize for being a spoiled brat. Now he got his chance after all.

 

"Merci..." whispered Remy, pulling up the comforter to get warm again.

 

"Remy? How tired are you?"

 

"Tired, mais I can' sleep, keep thinkin' 'bout de device and de changes in my life."

 

"Remy, there's something I need to tell you." Warren was lying on his left side, and had locked eyes with the other man. His mouth had gone dry and a cold sweat erupted over his body now that he was about to come clean. Remy's open glance made him even more nervous and he felt guilty for what he had done a decade ago.

 

"Oui?"

 

Remy didn't pressure him and Warren appreciated that. "I need to apologize to you."

 

"'pologize?" Remy frowned. "What for? You didn' do anyt'in' wrong."

 

"Oh, but I did... I set you up a decade ago. I stole my mother's ring and placed it beneath your pillow. I wanted you gone." Remy turned paler with every word he spoke, but he had to continue now. "I was jealous. I couldn't deal with the competition and when dad brought you home... I was so angry. Then Sally seemed to like you as well and you dragged that turtle around with you everywhere you went. You were an easy target." Warren averted his eyes, unable to meet Remy's glance any longer. Remy had gone rigid during his admission and Warren found himself holding his breath in fearful apprehension.

 

"Wort'ington?"

 

"Yeah, I'm 'that' Warren. I'm sorry." Warren peeked at Remy's shocked eyes. "Back then I didn't know you were homeless. I thought you'd go back to the adoption agency. When dad told me that you had probably gone back to Bourbon Street I felt guilty and we even went back to search for you, dad, Sally and I. But we never found you. Sally thought you didn't want to be found."

 

"She was right..." Remy licked his lips and was suddenly unable to stay in bed any longer. He kicked off the comforter and sat upright, turning his back toward Warren.

 

"I know this is a shock and I should have told you when we met, but my first priority was getting you off the streets and I doubted you would come with me if you knew my real identity. I had to play you, I'm sorry for that, but I'm glad I did." He was getting desperate. Remy wasn't responding and he stared at the other man's back. "But I changed, Remy. I'm no longer that spoiled little rich kid. I really want to make things up to you."

 

A bitter laugh fled Remy's lips. "Why fuck me den if you really want to help? Or do you want me as your private whore?"

 

Suddenly Remy turned about, glaring at him and Warren almost felt nauseous, seeing the hate in the burning orbs. He sat up as well, determined to salvage the situation. "I didn't know it was you when I... paid you." He swallowed hard. "I realized the truth the next morning when I saw Tails and your eyes."

 

Remy sat frozen on the side of the bed, rigid with tension and Warren felt edgy as well. He had to plan his next move very carefully as he didn't want to lose the little trust they had managed to build. "I'm truly sorry. Can you forgive me?"

 

"You came back to look for me?" Remy's face mirrored his disbelief.

 

"Yeah, dad even became angry when he found me searching Bourbon Street. I wanted to tell you I was sorry and that it was okay to come back, that I would behave."

 

"And Sally searched for me as well?" Hearing this was an unexpected revelation.

 

"All the time; she always hoped to find you and take you home. She died some years ago... I don't think she ever stopped hoping." Warren saw the sorrow in Remy's eyes, hearing that bad news.

 

"She died?"

 

"It was cancer..." Warren drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry I caused everyone so much pain and sorrow. I didn't know what consequences my actions would have."

 

"And what 'bout your fat'er?"

 

"He's dead as well. You see I don't have anyone left now; except for you." Remy's look was hard to read and Warren privately prayed that Remy would give him one last chance. "I can't blame you if you don't want anything to do with me from now on. I ruined your chance at a better life and I don't deserve a second chance. I already messed up the first time you tried to befriend me." Discouraged, he started to rise from the bed. "I'll leave now... There are plenty of other rooms where I can sleep. I'm sure you don't want me around right now."

 

Remy suddenly grabbed his wrist, effectively stopping him. "What?" Warren hesitantly made eye contact and found that tears were rolling down Remy's face. "Remy?"

 

"Non, it's bien. You can stay."

 

Confused, Warren sat down next to Remy, noticing that the younger man didn't release his hold. "Remy... I'm really sorry."

 

Remy slowly nodded his head. "Makes sense in a way. I 'ways wondered why you wanted to pay for everyt'in' wit'out gettin' somet'in' in return."

 

"Where do we stand now, Remy?" Warren bit his bottom lip, knowing damn well that this was Remy's decision. "You can stay with the X-Men, irregardless of your decision. They won't kick you out because the two of us have problems."

 

Remy's eyes narrowed. "Don' even know if I wanna stay here."

 

"Why not?" Warren frowned. "They can teach you control over your empathy and you can get an education here."

 

Remy stared blankly at the wall. "I can 'ways go back to Bourbon Street."

 

"Why would you do that?" Warren was getting frustrated. "We want you here! And don't forget about Sinister. You're safe from him here."

 

Remy released a strangled sigh. "Rien's de same, everyt'in's changin'."

 

"But it's changing for the better," pointed Warren out to him. Then he grew quiet, giving Remy the time he needed to sort out his thoughts. Ten minutes passed by in silence and Warren discretely cleared his throat. "Remy?" Remy still had a tight hold on his arm.

 

"I ain' sure I can forgive you," said Remy at last in a shaky tone. "When m'sieur Wort'ington offered me a home I wanted to make it work. You sabotaged everyt'in' I did. Sally was de first person to care 'bout me and... I ended up sellin' my body 'gain 'cause of you. If you had accepted me, I wouldn' have gone back..."

 

"I can't change the past, Remy. If I could I would." His guilt doubled and he really felt like a bastard. "I don't know what to say or to do."

 

"Dis changes everyt'in'," said Remy thoughtfully. "Mais I wanna stay here, find out what's wrong wit' me and mon Dieu, I like havin' you 'round."

 

Warren felt confused as well. "It was the truth when I told you that I have feelings for you. I still have. That was why it was so hard to tell you. I don't want to lose you."

 

Remy shook his head. "You're mixin' up guilt and lust wit' love, mon ami."

 

"I don't think so, Remy..." Tenderly, he cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand and he leaned in for a kiss. At that moment he didn't know if Remy would let him, push him away or get mad with him. He just knew that he had to try. His lips gently claimed Remy's, keeping the kiss light, but passionate. To his surprise Remy's eyes remained locked with his, and Warren tried to be as open and honest as he could, rejoicing as Remy returned the kiss. When they broke apart, a silly smile appeared on Warren's face. "I'm in love with you, Remy."

 

But Remy remained silent, not returning the admission.

 

###

 

Remy lay awake most of the night. Warren however, was sound asleep. They lay facing each other and Remy fought his tears, recalling Warren's former nasty attitude as a child. Yes, he had been an easy target and Warren had used his weaknesses against him, like Tails. Now the other man professed love for him, hoping for forgiveness, but he couldn't forget the life he had been forced to lead that easily.

 

Most of his life he'd had to deal with drunks, perverts and johns who refused to pay him after they had sex. Life had been sordid and miserable. There had been times when he had fantasized about getting even with Warren, hurting the rich kid as much as Warren had hurt him, but now that he had that power, he found he didn't want it. Had he been really spiteful and looking for revenge he would have rejected Warren when the other man had declared his love for him.

 

He wasn't sure how he felt about Warren. The wronged child in him wanted to get even with Warren, but the adult recognized Warren's true regret and love. Love... no one had ever loved him, maybe Sally had, but he hadn't stayed long enough to understand what love was about. And now Warren proclaimed to love him.

 

Warren lay at a distance and they weren't touching. He hadn't felt comfortable with that and Warren had simply accepted it. Staring at the fair locks and handsome face, he wondered why he hadn't recognized Warren. Maybe he had, but his subconscious had kept it from him?

 

The boy inside screamed his pain and anger, but the adult kept him under control, repressing those unwanted feelings and sending them back. I don' know what will happen, mais I wanna stay. I want to get rid of dat device and mebbe dey can show me how to control my emotions. I can 'ways leave later if dey don' want me 'round. Once dey realize what I am dey'll kick me out, no matter what Warren says. It's bad enough Hank knows what I did for a livin'. Dey'll shun me and Warren... I don' know what he'll do, mais I won' set myself up for heartache. I never fell in love 'fore and I ain' startin' now. Not wit' someone who hurt me 'fore. I like him, oui, mais I won' ever love him. Never!

 

### 

 

Warren woke, feeling warm and comfortable. He immediately grew aware of the pliant body in his arms and he smiled in spite of last night's painful revelations. Remy had kept his distance then, but during his sleep the younger man had moved closer. Remy was now in his arms, head resting on his chest and those long, sexy legs had wrapped themselves around him, trapping him. Not that he minded being trapped! Not at all! Remy felt incredible in his arms and he wished this would never stop, but it had to.

 

Remy would probably feel ashamed and ill at ease, waking up in his arms, when the younger man had been so intent on keeping his distance last night. Warren gently untangled themselves and placed a kiss on Remy's brow. "Get some more sleep, Remy, you need it."

 

Slowly he got out of bed and headed for the bathroom where he took a shower. Drying his skin, he returned to his room, finding Remy still in bed. Remy's reaction to finding out the truth made him feel hopeful that maybe they had a future together, but he had to take this slow.

 

He dressed and then considered his next move. He wrote a short note, explaining to Remy that he was going jogging and placed the note on his pillow. Remy was bound to see it when he woke up. "You might not believe me, Remy, but I do love you..." Barely repressing the urge to kiss Remy's brow, he turned around and left the room.

 

"Hey Warren! Wait for me! Are you going running?" Bobby jogged toward him with a brilliant smile on his face. "Wanna go for a run together?"

 

"Sure, why not." Warren knew better than to try to get rid of Bobby, that would only make Bobby more curious.

 

"How's Remy? I heard him leave his room last night and then enter yours..." Bobby grinned impishly. "Is there something I should know?"

 

Warren sighed; he had hoped to keep everything a secret much longer. "He couldn't sleep so we talked."

 

"And never returned to his room? Warren, stop lying! I can see it in your eyes! You're interested in him!"

 

Warren sighed again. Why had he told Bobby he liked men? Oh yes, because Bobby liked men as well! "He's off limits to you, Drake."

 

"Hey, I understand. Feeling jealous already?" Bobby laughed warmly as they finally stepped in to the snow. "It's too bad though. Remy's really my type."

 

Warren glared at his teammate. "Don't make a move on him, understood? I'm serious!" Suddenly something cold exploded in his face. Fuck, Bobby had thrown a snow ball at him! "You're going to pay for that!" Running after Drake, he never noticed the eyes that followed him through the snow covered landscape.

 

###

 

Remy turned away from the window. Warren closing the door behind him had woken him up and after reading the note he had moved over to the window. Seeing them play around in the snow made his heart ache. The child inside him had always wanted a companion to play with, but had never gotten one.

 

Remy dragged his feet as he left Warren's room. He needed to shower, get dressed and check in with Hank.

 

"Remy? Are you all right?" Scott, on his way to have breakfast, passed Remy by, wondering why their new arrival was standing in the corridor with only shorts and a shirt on. And hadn't Remy just left Warren's room?

 

"Oui, mais still feelin' sleepy..." Remy glanced at Scott, wondering about the other man's eyes. "Is it true dat you'd destroy de place wit'out dose on?"

 

"Yes, I need my glasses." Scott smiled. "Why don't you get dressed and join us for breakfast?" Remy stomach growled and proved Scott's point.

 

"I will." Remy still felt shy and shuffled in to his room.

 

Scott nodded and left; Remy sighed relieved. He only felt comfortable talking to the others when Warren was close. But Scott had been right; he was hungry and his stomach growled again.

 

Fifteen minutes later he stood in the corridor again, having showered and dressed. He had chosen jeans and a warm sweater, still feeling a bit cold. "Not surprisin'," muttered Remy. "It's snowin' outside." Again, he pressed his nose against the window. It had never snowed in New Orleans; it was the first time ever that he saw snow and he wondered what it was like to feel the cold substance between his fingertips. Maybe later. First he had to join them for breakfast.

 

Jean, Hank and Scott looked up when he entered the room and he hovered near the doorway, uncertain whether to enter or quickly leave again.

 

"Remy, please join us!" Scott pointed out a chair to their guest. "And fill your plate at the buffet." He handed Remy a plate and shooed him over to the buffet.

 

Overwhelmed by the friendly welcome, Remy stared at the food and piled some of the scrambled egg on to his plate. Then he sat down, making sure he didn't look any of them in the eyes.

 

"Here, have some juice, Remy." Jean poured some orange juice in to his glass and pushed it across the table toward him.

 

"Merci..." His nervousness made it hard for him to eat and he froze when Hank addressed him.

 

"Did you think everything over, Remy?"

 

Remy nodded. "Oui, I did."

 

"And you reached a decision?" Hank finished his coffee; he would leave for his lab in a moment.

 

Remy's nervousness increased. "T'ink so."

 

"Good, then we'll talk some more when you join me in the lab?"

 

Remy nodded reluctantly. "Will join you after breakfast."

 

"Excellent!" Hank rose from the chair and headed for the lab.

 

Now Remy felt even more uncomfortable. Scott was studying and Jean was trying to lock eyes with him. He quickly ate breakfast and rose as well, about to excuse himself and then flee the room, when Jean suddenly addressed him.

 

"I know you feel like you're among strangers, but we're friends. Just give us a chance, Remy."

 

"I'll try." He managed to choke out the words and then quickly left, reluctantly heading for the lab.

 

###

 

"Remy, I need to perform some preliminary surgery in order to find out how deeply imbedded the alien device is. A scan can give me an indication, but I won't know for sure until I go in." Hank spoke in a calm, soothing tone. Remy sat opposite him, and was wringing his hands. His feet nervously moved over the floor and the long, auburn locks hid his features. "It's our only option, Remy."

 

He desperately wished Warren were here as well, but the other man hadn't joined them yet. What if he decided admittin' his feelings was wrong and he doesn' wanna see me 'gain? Mebbe he even left for N'Arlings wit'out me? Feeling absolutely miserable, he forced himself to pay attention to Hank. Half of what Hank had told him never registered with him. The only thing he had truly heard was that surgery was a necessity. "When will you do it?"

 

Hank frowned. Warren had told him that Remy probably wouldn't cooperate so this was a surprise. "I can do it today."

 

"Today?" His panic was rising. He couldn't do this on his own! "Don' know 'bout dat."

 

"It's perfectly all right to be scared," said Hank reassuringly.

 

Remy wanted to tell Hank no, but then Warren unexpectedly entered the lab. He barely managed to hide his relief and gratitude. At that moment he didn't care that this man had ruined his life when he had been a child.

 

"Remy, Scott told me I could find you here. Is it okay if I stay and listen to what Hank has to say?"

 

"Mais oui, please!" Warren sat down and Remy restrained himself from reaching out and taking hold of the other man's wrist. "He wants to operate on me... today."

 

"Today?" Warren looked at Hank. "Isn't that a bit short notice?"

 

"I could do it tomorrow, but Warren, the device won't go away. We need to deal with this now."

 

"And what if you can' remove it? What den?" That was one of Remy's biggest concerns. What if he was stuck with it for life?

 

Hank nodded. "That's a serious possibility. Its tendrils found a way into your brain tissue and cerebral cortex." Hank paused briefly. "If I can't remove it, I suggest I raise your empathic awareness to the first level. That way you can get used to the most basic emotions and the professor can help you build a shield to control them."

 

"De professor?" Non, he didn't want to work with that man. Charles still intimidated him.

 

"Or maybe Jean could..." suggested Hank, wondering if something in Remy's past made him suspicious of older men. "I would advice against doing nothing at all."

 

"Sounds plausible," said Warren. "But in the end it's your decision, Remy. What do you want Hank to do?"

 

Remy was immensely grateful that Warren gave him that choice. "Don' really know..."

 

"I think Hank's right, Remy." Warren locked eyes with the younger man. "Think about it. Once you control your powers Sinister can't manipulate you any longer. Even better, you can use them against him! Your empathy presents a natural defense once you control it."

 

Remy had to admit that Warren had made a valid point. "Mais I'm scared," he admitted in a tiny tone. "De emotions get too intense and..."

 

"It won't be that bad, Remy. We'll put the dial on one, just the first level..." Warren hoped Remy would say yes. "You'll feel much safer once you can control your powers."

 

"Bien, do it den..." Remy's fingers clawed the wooden armrest of the chair.

 

"Tomorrow morning then?" suggested Hank.

 

"C'est bien," said Remy in a shaky tone. "Can I leave now...?" The lab was making him nervous, reminded him too much of Sinister's.

 

"Sure." Hank rose to his feet and the two other men followed. "Warren, why don't you take our young friend for a walk? He looks like he needs some fresh air."

 

"That's a good idea. Bobby wants to throw some snowballs later." It would be a perfect distraction!

 

Remy let them talk, no longer really paying attention. He felt apprehensive about the surgery and wanted it over with.

 

###

 

"Here, put on the parka. It's cold outside." Warren handed Remy the thick coat and studied him. He still felt like hanging in limbo since last night. Remy hadn't forgiven him, but hadn't send him away either. Where did they stand now?

 

Remy and he slipped into the parkas and stepped outside where Bobby was building a snowman. "You'd better stay away from Bobby, he throws a mean snowball!"

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. He had never been hit by a snowball and had no idea what to expect. "I'll be careful."

 

"Hey! Warren, Remy! So glad you joined me! There's so much snow and not enough people to throw snowballs at!" Bobby turned about to face them.

 

Remy's breath caught; he had never seen Bobby in his ice form. "Mon Dieu... what happened to you?"

 

"Ah, this is my special power," explained Bobby. "You know what the fun part is? Things like ice slides!" He demonstrated at once, building an ice slide and enjoying the ride.

 

"Don't get to close to him," warned Warren Remy. "He's really cold when he's in this form."

 

"Never seen anyt'in' like if 'fore!" Remy stared at the Iceman, as Bobby created another ice slide. Suddenly something icy cold hit his face and he jerked back, lost his footing and fell hard on his butt.

 

"Drake!" Warren warned his teammate, and threw a snowball at the elusive Iceman, but without much success; Bobby was moving about too fast. "Sorry about that. Remy, are you okay?" He extended his hand, which Remy accepted and helped the younger man back to his feet. "Bobby's just a big kid."

 

But Remy was staring at the snow all around him and he removed the gloves which Warren had made him wear before they left the mansion. He buried his hands in the cold snow, savoring the sensation. "Never felt anyt'in' like it..."

 

Suddenly Warren understood. "This is the first time you've seen snow... Well, it's cold and wet." He smiled, seeing Remy's delighted expression. "Why don't you extract some revenge by throwing a snowball at Bobby?"

 

Remy created a snowball and threw it. "Good aim," remarked Warren as the snowball hit Bobby's face. The Iceman laughed, shook it off and retaliated with a snowball of his own, which hit Remy in the face.

 

"Could use some help, mon ami..." Remy was already making more snowballs.

 

Warren joined in and they teamed up against Bobby, who playfully begged for mercy.

 

Looking at Remy and seeing the younger man smile and fool about made Warren melancholy, realizing they could have had done this a decade ago; having fun together. But he had been too selfish to realize that. He savored watching Remy bombard Bobby with more snowballs and hoped Remy would give him that second chance.

 

###

 

"You're right, Warren. It was cold..." Remy shrugged out of the parka and headed for the fireplace where a fire was burning brightly. He dropped onto his knees in front of it and warmed his hands. That snowball fight had been amazing. He couldn't remember ever laughing that much; having such fun.

 

Bobby sat cross-legged next to him and Remy involuntarily moved away from him, creating a distance between them. Merde, why was he acting like this? He could trust them! He didn't have to be on his guard. Hopefully Bobby hadn't noticed it.

 

"Here, I made you some hot chocolate." Jean joined them, carrying a tray filled with steaming mugs. When she handed one to Remy, she asked, "Did you enjoy yourself?"

 

"Oui." Remy felt shy and lowered his eyes. He simply wasn't used to being close to a beautiful girl.

 

"So you think I'm beautiful? Thank you." Jean smiled.

 

Remy's eyes grew big and sought out Warren's. Yes, the other man had told him that Jean was a telepath as well as a telekinetic, but he hadn't thought she would ever read his mind!

 

"I'm sorry, Remy, but your mind is wide open. It's very hard to ignore your thoughts, but I'll try harder..." Jean exchanged a glance with Warren. Take good care of him!

 

I will... promised Warren.

 

Remy pretended to nurse his drink, while watching Jean and Warren closely. He had enjoyed fooling around with Warren and Bobby in the snow, but now reality came back crushing in on him. Hank would perform surgery on him tomorrow and his life would never be the same again.

 

###

 

Warren stood nervously in front of Remy's room. He was trying to figure out if he should talk to Remy or not. Would the younger man welcome him? There was only one way to find out and he knocked on Remy's door.

 

"Who's dere?"

 

"It's Warren. Can I come inside or...?" Warren held his breath, apprehensively waiting for Remy's answer.

 

"Oui, you can come inside."

 

Warren breathed his relief and pushed down the door handle. Remy was sitting on his bed with Tails keeping him company. Again, he felt the need to apologize for past behavior, but he kept silent, wanting Remy to speak first.

 

"I don' wanna have surgery..." Remy patted Tails absentmindedly, looking at Warren instead. "I'm scared dey can' remove de device and dat Sinister will be back..."

 

Warren joined Remy and sat down on the bed. "Remy, Sinister can't get through the mansion's defenses, you're safe here. And believe me, each and everyone of us will try to stop him from taking you. And about the surgery? I think you made the right decision. Your empathy belongs to you and you should be able to work with it. Let Hank go ahead with the surgery, let him dial it up and then work with the professor on building your defenses." Remy shivered and Warren frowned. He had noticed before that Remy tended to feel uncomfortable when Charles was mentioned. "What's wrong?"

 

"I don' like him."

 

"Charles? Why?" Warren moved a little closer but refrained from taking hold of Remy's hand. He had lost the right to do so last night. Now it was up to Remy to instigate any contact between them. "Why don't you like him?" Remy looked away, trying to avoid answering that question. "Remy?"

 

"He reminds me of someone..."

 

"Who?"

 

"Nat'aniel... Sinister." Remy bit his lip, expecting a rebuke.

 

Warren swallowed hard. "In what way does Charles remind you of Sinister?"

 

"I can feel de power in him... Nat'aniel's de same way. He has de power to hurt me and your professor is de same."

 

"No, he's not," said Warren slowly, determined to make Remy see the difference. "But I understand that you feel intimidated, I'm guessing the majority of your former 'customers' were elderly men or am I wrong?"

 

Remy flinched at the mention of his former profession. "You're right..."

 

"And subconsciously they still frighten you, but you might consider giving Charles a fair chance. He really wants to help. You don't have to be scared that he'll try something. He's not like that." Warren hoped Remy believed him.

 

"Merci..." Remy cocked his head. "Jus' needed to hear dat, I guess."

 

Warren licked his lips. He hadn't come here to talk about Charles, but about the two of them and where they stood. "Remy, are we still friends or...?" He didn't dare hope they could be more than friends.

 

A blush appeared on Remy's face. "Do you still want it to be more? Can' believe dat, you see. I'm a whore and you're a millionaire. Why settle for me? I'm de street rat you hated as a chile."

 

"But that's just it, Remy. I'm no longer that spoiled brat I was back then. I know I made mistakes and I regret making them, but letting you get away would be another mistake and one I refuse to make."

 

"Mais I'm a whore..."

 

"No, you were a prostitute because you had to survive. You can start a whole new life here."

 

"Mais dat doesn' change de past or who I'm now..."

 

Warren felt like fighting a lost battle. How could he get his point across? "Remy, I know what you did to survive and I still want you. I know we can't simply delete your past and I'm not sure we should if we could. Your past made you in to who you are today and I like you just the way you are, but we could start a new life... together, off the streets in a safe environment."

 

Remy shrunk into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. "Don' know why I'm reactin' like dis. Should feel safe here, mais I don'. It's like... like I'm rememberin' everyt'in' bad dat ever happened to me. Can see deir faces, hear deir voices... feel de pain all over 'gain."

 

Warren broke his own rule and folded an arm around Remy's shoulder. "I think I know what's happening, Remy. You do feel safe here and that's why everything is coming back. You feel safe enough to face everything... It's okay to be scared. Give it time, Remy. You have been through a lot and now you're finally getting a chance to rest."

 

"You t'ink dat it's it?" Remy gave Warren a hopeful look.

 

"Yeah." Warren smiled reassuringly and wished he could stay with Remy for the rest of the night. He really wanted to hold the other man in his sleep, but so far Remy hadn't asked him to stay and he wasn't pressuring Remy. "I hope you'll have a good night's sleep." Warren started to rise from the bed, but Remy's hand grabbed his arm, stopping him. "What?"

 

"Won' you stay? I hoped you'd stay..." Remy looked disappointed and his tone was distressed.

 

"I didn't want to assume you want me here, Remy. I... After telling you who I really am I don't feel like I have the right to assume anything anymore."

 

Remy's eyes consisted of confusion. "What are you sayin'?"

 

"That if you want us to be friends, or more than friends, you'll have to take the initiative." Warren stared at Remy's hand, resting on his arm. "I know I'm probably only adding to your confusion by acting like this, but this has to be your choice. I don't want to take advantage of you. You need to understand that you have a choice here."

 

"I know dat," whispered Remy softly. "Mais I don' know if I have feelings for you. I don' even know what I'm feelin' right now, mais..."

 

"What?" Warren's fingers itched to stroke back a stray lock that had fallen in to Remy's face.

 

"I want you to stay tonight... jus' holdin' me, if dat's okay wit' you." Hesitantly, he looked up at Warren.

 

"I'd love to hold you. I'm just going to get my stuff and then I'll be back, is that okay with you?"

 

"Oui." Remy managed a small smile.

 

###

 

"How do you want to do this?" Warren stood next to the bed and looked questioningly at Remy, who was already in bed, lying on his side. Although they tended to wake up touching, Remy usually kept his distance when going to sleep.

 

Remy licked his lips. "C'est bien, don' worry 'bout it. Jus' lie down."

 

Warren obeyed and lay down on his back, cocking his head until he met Remy's glance. "Is this okay?" He held his breath when Remy moved closer until they touched. Remy rested his head on Warren's chest and hesitantly placed an arm across his chest. Warren was almost too scared to say anything at all, afraid it might scare Remy off again. "Comfortable?"

 

"Oui..." Remy reached for the comforter and covered them with it. Looking at the window, he smiled. He hadn't drawn the curtains and could still look outside. "It's still snowin'."

 

"You like the snow, don't you?"

 

"Oui, we had fun earlier and oui, Bobby t'rows a mean snowball, you were right."

 

Warren slowly raised a hand and stroked Remy's hair. "I like having you close."

 

"I like bein' dis close. First time ever I feel comfortable like dis."

 

Warren's heart missed a beat, hearing that confession. "Maybe there's still hope for us, then?"

 

"Mebbe." Remy closed his eyes, concentrated on the rise and fall of Warren's chest and dozed off.

 

"I really hope so," whispered Warren. He fingered a silky lock and followed Remy in to sleep.

 

###

 

"Non, stop, don'!"

 

Remy's cries Warren woke in the middle of the night. The younger man was still in his arms, sleeping close against him, but Remy was thrashing and shaking. "Hey, it's only a nightmare. Come on, Remy, wake up. It's okay." He gently shook Remy and kept up the reassuring murmurs. "Remy, you're at the mansion. No one can hurt you." In the end, after long minutes of coaxing Remy, the younger man opened his eyes. Warren however, wasn't quite prepared for the effect it had on him; seeing red eyes light up in the darkness. "Wow, that's something special."

 

He instantly regretted his words as Remy closed his eyes again. "I meant it as a compliment." Warren's eyes got used to the dark and thanks to the moonlight he managed to make out Remy's form. "How's your vision in the dark anyways?"

 

"Bien, can see everyt'in'..."

 

Remy tried to move away from him, but Warren didn't let him. "Talking about it makes them go away."

 

"I can'..."

 

"What are the nightmares about, Remy?" Warren pulled the younger man closer to him, enfolding him in a loose hug, letting Remy know that he could move away if he wanted to, but Remy stayed right where he was. "Are they about Sinister?"

 

"Sometimes, mais not often..." Remy's eyes closed again and he shivered.

 

Warren felt lost. Was he supposed to play a guessing game? "The surgery?"

 

"Non." Remy sighed. "Bourbon Street... when I was a chile."

 

Damn, how could he be so stupid? "I'm sorry, Remy. It must have been hard for you."

 

"It was hell," said Remy in a bitter tone. The shivers grew worse.

 

"What are you thinking of now?"

 

"De first time..."

 

Warren frowned, treading on dangerous grounds. "The first time..."

 

"A john fucked me for money. I didn' know how much it would hurt."

 

Warren cringed in sympathy. "How old were you?"

 

"Don' know my exact age, mebbe five..."

 

"Five?" Warren's stomach contracted painfully. When he had been five years old his mother had still been alive, pampering him. "I'm really mad with myself, you know, for setting you up."

 

"Would havin' known de trut' made a difrence den?"

 

Large eyes sought out his and Warren was forced to answer the question honestly. "I'm not sure, it might. I was spoiled rotten and arrogant, but once I knew where you came from and where you had gone back to, I panicked."

 

Remy smiled weakly. "Your fat'er didn' want you to know."

 

"That sounds like him," admitted Warren. "Feeling a bit calmer now?" At least the shivers had grown less.

 

"Oui, mais I ain' sure I can go back to sleep jus' yet."

 

Warren was tempted to suggest something else than sleep, but stopped himself just in time. They were no way ready to make love. "Can I kiss you?"

 

Remy frowned. "Kiss me? Why ask permission?"

 

"Because I don't want to do anything against your will."

 

Remy's eyes widened in understanding. "Do you really love me?"

 

"I think so and I'd love to prove it to you."

 

"How would you prove it?"

 

"You don't ask easy questions, Remy." Warren considered the question. "I don't know. Stand by you, support you, make you happy."

 

"No one ever offered to do dat for me..." Remy cleared his throat, feeling strangely emotional. "I t'ink it'd be okay for you to kiss me."

 

Warren felt now nervous in return, realizing this was different from all the other times they had exchanged a kiss. This time Remy wanted it. "Yes?"

 

"Oui." Remy nervously licked his lips. He gently placed his hands on either side of Warren's head and leaned in for a kiss, actually instigating it. Claiming Warren's lips, he heard the soft moan that flowed from Warren's mouth in to his. The kiss was different. He had never been kissed with such love before and being honest, he had to admit that he felt something in return. He just wasn't sure what it was. Love was a new emotion and he had a hard time identifying it.

 

"Wow..." Warren smiled blissfully after Remy pulled back. Adding more words would destroy the magical moment. Instead, he playfully kissed the tip of Remy's nose. "Can you sleep now?" Although he was aroused and his cock was crying out for attention he was going to be strong and ignore it. The sex could wait.

 

"I can try... You sure you wanna go to sleep?"

 

Warren realized the intent behind Remy's question. After living on the streets and selling his body for so long, Remy had a hard time believing someone wanted to be with him for a different reason besides sex. "I'm sure. You need to rest. Remember? You're having surgery tomorrow."

 

"Don' remind me..." Remy closed his eyes again and snuggled up closer to Warren. "I really like dis."

 

"Me too, now go back to sleep and no nightmares this time!"

 

"I'll try." Remy smiled against Warren's chest, hoping his dreams would have a more pleasant nature from now on.

 

###

 

Remy bowed his head, letting the warm water drip from his hair. He was taking a shower, trying to do away with the last remnants of a sleep that had been extremely deep and peaceful. For the second half of the night he hadn't had any nightmares, probably thanks to Warren's soothing presence. Grabbing the shampoo bottle, he squeezed some in to his hand and washed his hair. He felt better than he ever had. The ointment had done its job and he no longer ached inside. Warren had made it all possible. Part of what he felt was gratitude, but he couldn't deny a certain interest in the other man.

 

"Remy? Are you almost done? Hank's waiting for us."

 

"Jus' one more moment." Remy rinsed his hair and quickly stepped out of the shower cabin, drying his skin and towel drying his hair. Standing there naked, he realized that his clothes were in the bedroom and he considered putting a towel around his waist, but part of him was really curious to find out how Warren would react to seeing him naked again.

 

In the end he stepped in to the bedroom naked, keeping his eyes on Warren. Warren quickly looked away, but a blush appeared on his face and his jeans suddenly seemed incredibly tight. He wants me, no doubt 'bout dat... Remy dressed quickly and then joined Warren. "I'm ready to go."

 

Warren cleared his throat. "Hank told me that surgery will take two hours at least."

 

Remy nodded once. "I'm nervous; don' really wanna do dis."

 

"Remy, we already discussed this. Did you change your mind?"

 

"Non." They walked down the corridor and Remy kept his eyes directed at the floor. He wanted to take Warren's hand in his, but felt shy. "I'm scared of what will happen once de device is switched on."

 

"We'll all be there for you, Remy. You don't have to do this on your own."

 

Remy remained quiet, trying to sort out his thoughts, and realized that they had reached the Medlab. "Will you stay wit' me?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"When he puts me to sleep. Will you stay until I'm 'sleep?" The whole surgery scared him. He had to trust Hank, had to trust the man acted on his behalf and wasn't a Sinister in disguise and trust didn't come easy for him.

 

"Of course I will. I wanted to suggest that anyway."

 

"Warren, Remy, you're right on time." Hank walked up to them. "Remy, would you change in to this medical gown?"

 

Remy accepted the med gown and stared at it; his mouth going dry.

 

"You can get changed in the next room." Hank opened the door for him.

 

Remy obeyed reluctantly and closed the door behind him. He took off his clothes and folded them, neatly placing them on the exam table. He slipped into the med gown and felt nauseous. There was no way back; he was really going through with this.

 

"Ah, there you are, please follow me. Do you have any last questions?" Hank led Remy to the operating theatre.

 

Warren stayed close all the time, even briefly resting his hand at the small of Remy's back. Remy lay down when Hank asked him to and felt vulnerable.

 

"I explained this yesterday, but I will do it again," said Hank. "I have to shave this section, but you won't notice it later as your hair is quite long and you can easily cover the bald spot. I will locate the alien device and try to remove it. Should that prove impossible, I will raise the dial. Remy, do you agree to this?"

 

Remy whispered a choked yes. He couldn't back out now. Clinging to Warren's hand, he tried to hold on to his courage. "Oui, jus' do it."

 

"I'm proud of you, Remy." Warren sat on his heels so he was level with Remy, who had cocked his head to make eye contact. "You're doing the right thing. I promise I'll be there when you wake up."

 

"This injection will put you to sleep," announced Hank, who had slipped an IV needle beneath Remy's skin. "Don't fight it and go to sleep."

 

"You'll keep your promise?" Remy felt dizzy, then sleepy and his eyes began to close.

 

"I'll be there," repeated Warren, tenderly stroking Remy's locks.

 

"Bien..." The medication kicked in and Remy fell asleep.

 

"Now what?" Warren got to his feet, releasing Remy's hand and watched as Hank hooked Remy up to several pieces of equipment.

 

"Jean will assist me and the professor will be standing by in case his empathy complicates surgery." Hank nodded as Jean walked into the Medlab. "Get him ready," he told Jean and then turned toward Warren. "This will take two hours at least."

 

"I want to stay close."

 

"Then wait in the waiting area. I'll let you know the moment I finished surgery."

 

"Thanks, and Hank?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"Take good care of him."

 

"I will, Warren."

 

Warren looked one more time over his shoulder, said a silent good-bye to Remy and then headed for the waiting area.

 

###

 

"Is Hank still working on Remy?" Bobby entered the waiting area and sat down beside his friend. "You look worried." Ever since Remy had arrived at the mansion he had seen a new side to Warren. Warren had always been a good friend, but had never displayed such concern for someone before.

 

"Yes, it's been two and a half hours now. He should have finished thirty minutes ago. What if something went wrong?" Warren got to his feet and paced the waiting area.

 

"I'm sure everything's just fine. Hank would have let you know if things went wrong. Oh, Scott wanted me to let you know that he hopes everything will be fine in the end. He's stuck with monitor duty, otherwise he would have joined us." Bobby watched Warren closely. "Man, you really got it bad."

 

"It's more than that..." Warren stopped pacing for a moment and stared at the door. "Yes, I'm in love with him. Yes, I feel guilty for some things I did in the past, but... I'm so worried that Sinister will win in the end and take Remy away from me!"

 

Bobby frowned. Warren felt guilty for things he had done in the past? What was that about? Hadn't he just only met Remy in New Orleans? Well, he could worry about that later. "Yeah, what's up with Sinister? Why does he want Remy?"

 

"It has something to do with his empathic abilities," hinted Warren. "Maybe he thinks of Remy as an experiment."

 

"Don't worry about Sinister. There's no way he can get past the security system." There was more to it than Warren was letting him know. He didn't know what it was, but he would find out.

 

Suddenly the door swung open and Hank entered. Warren immediately covered the distance and grabbed Hank's arms. "How's Remy? Did you manage to remove the device?"

 

"Warren, please sit down and then I'll update you," said Hank calmly, guiding Warren back to his chair.

 

Bobby raised an eyebrow. Hank was an open book to him and he realized surgery hadn't been a complete success.

 

"I failed to remove the device," said Hank, voice full of regret. "Its tendrils reach too deeply into his brain tissue. Had I removed it I would have caused irreversible brain damage."

 

Warren gave Hank a disappointed look. "And now what?"

 

"I raised the dial, as we agreed. When Remy wakes up, he will become aware of emotions that belong to someone else. The professor will help him identify all emotions, but Remy will need you as well. Especially you." Hank placed his large, furry hand on Warren's.

 

"What happens when he's ready to move on to the next level? Another round of surgery?" Warren's eyes threatened to release tears and he quickly pushed them back, determined not to burst out in to tears.

 

"No, I can manipulate the device through his skin. He won't need surgery again." Hank sighed. "I know this isn't what you hoped for, but it's the best I can do."

 

"I know you did the best you could," said Warren sincerely. "I'm just not sure how Remy will react to this news."

 

"We'll find out in two hours, when he wakes up. Do you want me to call you when he's starting to wake up or..." Hank didn't get a chance to finish his sentence.

 

"Can I sit with him? I promised to be there for him." Warren already got to his feet, ignoring Bobby who had supportively squeezed his shoulder.

 

"Of course. Just follow me." Hank gave Bobby a glance. "You'd better stay here. Remy's not up for a lot of visitors."

 

"He's asleep, Hank..." Only then Bobby understood; Hank wanted to give Warren some privacy when sitting with Remy. "I'll update Scott."

 

Hank nodded, and then guided Warren into the Medlab. "Remy might be disorientated when he wakes up. He might feel weak as well. And then there's the empathy."

 

"The professor will help him?" Warren followed Hank and cringed, seeing Remy asleep in an exam bed. He was still hooked to an IV, but breathed on his own.

 

"Yes, I will," said Charles, who entered as well. "I already started building a shield in his mind. It will protect him from empathic overload. Once he's feeling stronger I will teach him how to use the empathy to protect and defend himself."

 

"And attack," added Warren. "When fighting Sinister he'll need to know how to attack the monster before Sinister attacks him."

 

"Agreed," said Charles. "I'll start working with him tomorrow. He'll be exhausted most of today." Charles steered his wheelchair toward the doorway, but Warren's voice stopped him.

 

"He's afraid of you."

 

"What?" Charles turned his wheelchair about and looked Warren in the eyes.

 

"Remy's afraid of you. He says he can feel your power. You remind him of Sinister and all the other johns he had to service in the past. You'd better be careful."

 

Charles filed the information away for later. "I'll keep it in mind when working with him. I'll try to show him that he doesn't need fear me."

 

"Thanks, sir."

 

"You're welcome, Warren. That's why I'm here in the first place, to help my fellow mutants." Charles smiled and left the room.

 

Warren pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. One of Remy's hands didn't have an IV and he curled his fingers around it, stroking the skin. Hank soundlessly left the room, not wanting to interrupt and Warren appreciated his friend's thoughtfulness. "You'll see, Remy, everything will turn out just fine. We just have to believe that."

 

###

 

His mouth felt like cotton and he tried to moisten his lips with his tongue, which refused to cooperate. Opening his eyes proved equally difficult. In the end he managed to move his head just a little.

 

"Remy? Are you waking up? I'm here, just as I promised. Can you open your eyes for me?"

 

That was Warren's voice, he was certain of that, but there was something else. A warm fuzzy sensation slipped through his mind and body, engulfing him and panicking, his eyes flashed open and a hoarse scream died on his lips.

 

"Remy, everything's okay. Surgery is over, please calm down."

 

Looking straight into Warren's eyes, he calmed down. "What...?"

 

"Just look at me, listen to my voice. Everything is all right, Remy."

 

Warren's calm finally got through to him and the warm sensation only grew stronger. A smile spread across his face. Now that he knew Warren was close the panic faded. In a strange way he almost felt paralyzed, dizzy, unable to move. His body felt warm and it tingled, making him giggle softly. He couldn't remember ever feeling like this!

 

"Remy? Why are you giggling?" Worry crept in to Warren's voice. "I'm going to call Hank now..." He used the emergency button, knowing it would get Hank here in a second and Hank didn't disappoint him.

 

"What's wrong with my patient?" Hank quickly moved toward the bed, feeling worried as well. "Remy?"

 

The warm, tingling feeling was growing less, but it was still there, confusing him. Acting on instinct, he raised his right arm and placed his hand at the back of Warren's neck, drawing him closer. Warren's face was now hovering above his and he stared entranced in to the other man's eyes.

 

"Hank, what's going on?" Warren sounded scared.

 

"It's the empathy," explained Hank after a moment's thought. "He's picking up on your love and concern for him, but he has never felt anything like it before so he doesn't know what he's feeling. Maybe I should get the professor in here."

 

"Just give me one more moment," said Warren, returning the stare and concentrating on his feelings for Remy. He opened his mind, let Remy feel his love and his regrets for hurting him as a child.

 

Remy jerked briefly, unable to deal with the flood of feelings that washed over him, but they were positive feelings and not meant to hurt him, he sensed that too. "Is dat you?"

 

"Yeah, it's me, Remy. Looks like your empathy is switched on all right. How are you feeling?" Warren sighed, relieved that Remy was responsive again.

 

"Feel funny, don' know how to explain." His eyes dropped shut again. "What's happenin'?"

 

"Your empathy's on," explained Hank again. "The professor will help you sort out your emotions when you're fully awake. I want you to sleep some more."

 

"Sleep..." Remy refused to let go of Warren and pulled him even closer. "Stay..."

 

Warren smiled amused and then climbed in to bed with Remy. "If that's what you want..."

 

"Oui, I want you close..." Sleepy, his lips still found their way to Warren's brow and he pressed a kiss there. "Stay..."

 

"I'm not arguing, Remy." Warren exchanged a pleased look with Hank. "I guess we did the right thing."

 

"Let's hope so. We still have to introduce him to any sort of negative feelings. We'll leave that up to the professor." Hank left Remy in safe hands and returned to his research.

 

Warren smiled against Remy's chest. Being held this close was a novel experience and he liked it a lot. Hopefully Remy would realize his love was true. Maybe then they could take the next step and build a solid relationship.

 

###

 

Remy blinked, wondering why he was no longer in the Medlab. This looked like Warren's room. Frowning, he took in his surroundings. There was an open book on the bed beside him, a mug filled with warm chocolate, -if he could still trust his nose-, and even Tails had found a way in to the room, resting at the foot end of the bed.

 

"I thought you'd be more comfortable here than in the Medlab."

 

Remy pushed himself closer to the head end of the bed, trying to increase the distance between Charles and he. What was the professor doing in Warren's room and where was Warren? He simply stared at Charles, not trusting his voice. Involuntarily, he froze completely.

 

"You're afraid of me, why, Remy?" Charles remained at a distance, trying to reassure Remy. "I don't mean you any harm. I want to help."

 

Remy felt insecure, even ashamed of being afraid. "Can' help it."

 

Charles decided not to push it. "I'm here to help you get a grip on your empathy."

 

"Where's Warren?" Remy looked about, hoping Warren would emerge from the bathroom or enter the room. Why had Hank and Warren taken him here and then left him alone with the professor?

 

"I asked Warren to step out; his emotions would interfere." Charles was tempted to move a little closer; making physical contact would help during their first training round, but he dismissed the idea, seeing Remy's distress. "I want you to tell me what you feel."

 

Remy eyed the older man suspiciously. He wasn't going to show his insecurity and just shrugged. "Tired."

 

"No, not like that. When you were sleeping off the anesthetic, I entered your mind and build some walls, a shield to make sure you wouldn't suffer any empathic overload. I want to activate it and show you how to control it."

 

"You did what?" Remy's eyes mirrored his distress. "Knew I couldn' trust you!"

 

"It was for your own good, Remy," said Charles calmly. "And you can trust me."

 

Remy stubbornly shook his head. "Non." Charles gave him a thoughtful look and the warm sensation returned, wrapping itself around his mind and body, engulfing him, making him feel safe. "What are you doin'?"

 

"You can sense it, don't you?" Charles smiled pleased. "I'm sending you my concern and my willingness to help you. I'm no threat."

 

Remy gasped at the intensity of the warm. "What do you wanna do?"

 

"Don't fight me when you feel me inside your mind, and follow my lead."

 

Remy hesitantly nodded his head. "Will try."

 

"Thank you, Remy. I'm going to withdraw my emotions and I'll talk to you in your mind, so don't be alarmed." Charles waited for Remy to nod his head. I want you to stay calm and to listen to me.

 

Remy's breath caught, hearing Charles' voice in his head and he almost flinched back, but he had to be strong now. "I'm calm."

 

I'm going to activate the shield...

 

It was the strangest sensation. It almost felt like walls appeared all around him, but instead of feeling cornered, he felt safe.

 

These walls are mental, but I gave them a realistic appearance so you would understand. You can lower the walls whenever you want, but no one can get inside without your permission.

 

"Uh? I don' understand." The walls were higher than he was and he could almost touch them with his fingertips.

 

I want you to shut me out. Be very firm about it. You don't want to hear my voice in your head.

 

Confused, Remy looked pleadingly at Charles. "Still don' understand."

 

There's nothing to understand, just want it, will it!

 

Remy gave in. Don' want you here, don' wanna hear you. He constantly repeated the words.

 

"Excellent!" complimented Charles his newest student. "You're stronger than I thought. Now lower the walls."

 

"How?" Remy looked at Charles helplessly.

 

"Just imagine the walls getting shorter, push them down."

 

Remy frowned, but tried. "It works!"

 

"Of course it works!" Charles smiled. "That's enough...." You're doing very well, Remy. You're a natural.

 

"Merci, m'sieur." Remy blushed slightly.

 

You can raise and lower those walls at your will. When you're faced with a fierce emotion, I suggest you raise them. When you want to read an emotion, lower them, but let people know you're reading them.

 

"Mais oui, m'sieur, won' spy on dem." Remy marveled at the concept. Raising and lowering the walls was a simple technique.

 

Then we can move on to the next level.

 

Remy's eyes widened. Next level? He thought this was it!

 

I'm going to send you a negative emotion, let's start with anger. I'll build the intensity until it gets quite strong. The moment you can't deal with the emotion any more I want you to raise those walls, understood?

 

Big-eyed, Remy wished he could refuse, but he had better learn to control these emotions so they wouldn't control him! "Will try."

 

Charles nodded once and then concentrated, sending Remy a hint of anger.

 

Remy flinched, feeling the cold stabbing his body and mind. "Cold, cold and sharp..."

 

Remember how it feels, Remy. This is anger. Now I will make the emotion stronger. Raise your walls when it starts to hurt. Charles was amazed that Remy could deal with such an intense intensity before the young man raised his walls. Very good, Remy. You can practice this with Warren; I told him what to do.

 

"I passed your test den?" The sharp cold began to retreat and he released the breath he had been holding.

 

"Yes, you did." Charles smiled approvingly. "Do you have any questions before I leave and send Warren in?"

 

"Non, need to deal wit' dis first." The walls were still there, protecting him. It was amazing. "And oui, please send Warren in." He really wanted to see Warren and tell him what had just happened. For the first time in his life he felt something that resembled pride.

 

###

 

Warren hurried inside, knowing Remy would feel apprehensive about being alone with Charles. The professor had only smiled when leaving the room and Warren took that as a good sign. "Remy? Are you all right?" Remy was sitting upright in bed and a faint smile played across his features, making Warren relax.

 

"I'm bien, didn' t'ink so, mais I am..."

 

Remy's eyes found his and Warren drew in a deep breath, only too well aware of the fact that the younger man could now read his emotions. Sitting down on the side of the bed, he checked on the chocolate he had made earlier. "I should reheat that..."

 

"Non, stay, may I...? Can I...?"

 

"You want to know how I really feel about you?" Warren had expected this. "Go ahead. I won't shut you out. My mind's open." He held his breath, feeling Remy lean in closer. He had no idea what it would feel like, having an empath in his mind. "I love you, Remy and I'm so sorry I fucked up as a kid."

 

"De warm sensation's back."

 

"That's my love for you," helped Warren. "I was so scared that you wouldn't be able to deal with the fact that Hank couldn't remove the device."

 

"Don' be... I'll learn to control it."

 

Warren's eyes grew big when Remy cupped his chin in the palm of his hand. "What?"

 

"I didn' t'ink you really cared. It's hard to believe someone cares after all dese years."

 

"But I do care!"

 

"I know dat now..." Remy smiled weakly. "I love hot chocolate."

 

"I'm going to get you hot chocolate, just a moment." Warren almost hurried away, but Remy's hand settled on his arm and he stayed in place.

 

"Merci."

 

"What for?"

 

"For takin' care of me, for bringin' me here... for lovin' me." Remy blushed and lowered his eyes. "No one loved me 'fore."

 

Warren's heart contracted in sympathy. "You'd better get used to it, Remy." He slowly leaned in closer and placed a chaste kiss on Remy's lips. "I'll be back in a moment."

 

"Hurry..."

 

The whispered word went straight to Warren's groin. Down boy! Just one whispered word coming from Remy's lips made him rock hard. Bobby was right after all, he had it bad! In an effort to compose himself, he quickly left the room to get Remy his hot chocolate.

 

### 

 

Anti climax, it was the only way Warren could describe his return. Remy had fallen asleep, curled up in bed, holding Tails in his arms. With an amused smile, he sipped the hot drink himself, watching Remy sleep. Learning that the device couldn't be removed had shocked him. Now Sinister would always haunt Remy.

 

He sat down on the bed, cocked his head and stroked the silky locks. Had it been up to him, he would have slipped beneath the covers as well, but Remy had to be in control. It was a good sign that Remy had never asked about those six hundred dollars he had promised for every week the younger man stayed with him.

 

Unexpectedly, Remy's sleepy eyes half opened and sparkled at him.

 

"Hi, do you still want some hot chocolate?" He had drunk half of it, but gladly shared with Remy.

 

"I feel warm and I don' mean 'cause of de comforter. You make me feel warm. I never t'ought it would be like dis."

 

"It's the empathy, Remy." Warren smiled and continued to stroke the long locks. His lips itched to ask permission to join Remy in bed, but he remained quiet.

 

"What are you waitin' for?" Remy pushed back the comforter, signaling Warren to climb in to bed.

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"Oui."

 

Warren didn't waste any time and stripped down to his boxers. He slipped in to bed and felt pleased when Remy moved in to his arms. They were facing each other and Remy rested his head against his chest. Warren sighed blissfully.

 

"Don' know why I'm so sleepy."

 

"The professor probably wore you down. Did you learn anything useful?" Hopefully the professor could teach Remy how to fight off Sinister.

 

"Oui, I t'ink so, learned to build walls."

 

Warren nodded against Remy's head. Xavier had taught his students some basic defenses against telepaths and he knew what Remy was referring to. "And it helps?"

 

"Oui..."

 

Remy sounded sleepy and Warren decided to ask his other questions after Remy had rested. "Then get some sleep, sleepy-head."

 

Remy mumbled something intelligible and closed his eyes, snuggling up to him. And Tails is still in his arms. Some things never change.

 

###

 

Warren was unable to fall asleep and was content watching Remy dream in his arms. At times, the younger man mumbled in his sleep and hugged him tighter. Maybe it was the nightmares, lurking in the back of his mind that urged Remy to strengthen their bodily contact. Warren didn't mind at all.

 

Checking the time, he found that it was almost time for dinner. He should wake Remy, but decided against it. Remy looked too peaceful, asleep like that.

 

"Warren! Remy! Come on, guys! It's snowing!"

 

"Bobby!" Warren cringed at Bobby's volume. Bobby was practically yelling his excitement. Any hope he might have had that Remy would sleep right through it disappeared when Bobby banged on the door.

 

"Hank and Scott are gonna join in! We'll have a snowball fight. You can't miss that! Come on, guys!"

 

"What's dat?" Remy's misty eyes locked with Warren's. "Is dat Bobby?"

 

"Yeah, it's Bobby." Warren felt lost, looking in the dilated pupils of Remy's eyes. They were like nothing he had ever seen before. "I can kick his ass and tell him to leave us alone."

 

"Non, don'... I feel like gettin' up..." Remy stretched and gave Warren an adoring glance. "We'll join dem."

 

Warren sighed. Remy could easily wrap him around his little finger. "Bobby, give us five!"

 

"Great! I'll be waiting downstairs, don't take too long!"

 

They heard Bobby run downstairs and Warren sighed. "You really want to join them and get cold and wet when we're here warm and dry?"

 

"Oui."

 

The mischievous expression in Remy's eyes surprised Warren. "What are you up to?" Ever since Remy's empathy kicked in, the younger man acted in a freer way, sometimes even taking the initiative.

 

Remy smiled innocently. "You'll find out." Energetically, he kicked off the comforter and jumped to his feet.

 

Warren helplessly watched as Remy dove in to his closet. It was a good thing they almost had the same size. Now that Remy was getting dressed, he couldn't stay behind. First he went in to the bathroom to splash some water on to his face, and then he returned to the room to get dressed as well. He arched an eyebrow, seeing Remy was wearing two sweaters. "Afraid you're going to be cold?"

 

Remy grinned. "Bobby t'rows a mean snowball, remember?"

 

Warren still marveled about the change that was taking place in Remy. As he slipped into his boots, he caught Remy humming. "You seem to feel all right."

 

"Betta dan alright!" Remy grinned again and kneeled in front of Warren, resting his hands on the other man's knees. "It's 'cause of you, your... amour. I can feel it and it feels bien, so bien!"

 

Warren eyed Remy closely. "I didn't think it would affect you like this, but I'm not complaining." He liked Remy's new energy, the younger man's eagerness to take the initiative.

 

Warren allowed Remy to grab his sleeve and pull him along. I wonder what's going to happen next...

 

###

 

"I'm going to get you for that!" Warren chased Remy through the snow, staggering when Bobby's snowball impacted against his back. "You guys are double teaming! It's not fair!"

 

Bobby laughed. He had changed into his ice form and was definitely at an advantage. "You teamed up with Slim against me earlier. This is payback!"

 

"Ai, stay 'way from me! Merde!" Remy stumbled over his own two feet and fell face forward in to a pile of snow. "Merde!" He spit out the snow and tried to get back to his feet again, but a heavy body landed on top of his. "Ouch," escaped him, as he tried to slip away.

 

"Oh no, you're staying!" Warren grabbed some snow and rubbed it all over Remy's face, ignoring the other man's protests. "You started this!" Somehow Remy managed to twist around and twinkling eyes caught his. "You're enjoying this!"

 

"It's a distraction!" Bobby used the momentum to throw another snowball at Warren and this time it hit his friend in the face. "Gotcha!"

 

Warren shuddered. Bobby and Remy teaming up was too much. He should never have listened to Remy and should have stayed inside instead. "We could still be in a warm and dry bed! But no, you had to go outside!"

 

Remy giggled and Warren's resistance broke. He would do anything to make Remy happy and the Cajun knew it! "I can't believe you let Bobby throw that snowball at me! You could have given me a warning!" Warren menacingly leaned in closer, slipped a cold hand beneath the younger man's clothes and ignored Remy's yelps when he started to tickle him.

 

"Non, non, mercy!" Remy was squirming, laughing, tears of merriment dripped from his face and his attempts to fight off Warren were only half hearted. "Mercy!"

 

"No, no mercy for you!" Warren's other hand found a way beneath Remy's clothes and the tickling started in earnest. He loved hearing Remy's giggling and ignored Bobby and Scott's remarks about them getting a room. However, he was completely surprised to feel Remy's lips pressed against his all of a sudden. Remy's tongue nudged against his teeth and he parted them, allowing Remy in. What the hell?

 

Remy deepened the kiss and began rubbing his lower body against him in obvious want. He could feel Remy's arousal through the layers of fabric between them and he momentarily gave in to the passion, returning the kiss. One hand stole to Remy's groin, stroking his erection through the fabric of his jeans.

 

"Guys! Get a room! It's cold out here!" Scott laughed, shook his head and patted Bobby on the back. "Come on, let's go inside. They don't hear us anyway."

 

"I think they don't wanna hear us!" joked Bobby, and followed Scott back to the mansion.

 

Their remarks pulled Warren from passion and he ended the kiss, staring into dilated alien eyes. "Remy, what?" Remy was squirming beneath him, arched his back and tried to reclaim his lips. "Remy? Remy!" Warren suddenly realized what had happened. "It's the empathy. You're feeling my desire for you, but this isn't the right place. Remy? Remy!" He started to shake Remy gently, trying to get through to the Cajun.

 

A shudder traveled through Remy's body and his eyes cleared. "Cher?"

 

Warren smiled hearing the new nickname. "Not here, not now. Not yet anyway."

 

"You feel so bien..."

 

"You got carried away. You might want to raise your walls just a little." Warren felt flattered that Remy wanted him like this, but felt apprehensive as well. How much of Remy's desire was his own and how much had Remy picked up from him?

 

"Merde, I'm cold!" Remy shuddered as the cold, wet snow found a way into his clothes. A shy grin remained on his face as he allowed Warren to pull him to his feet. "Cher?"

 

"Yeah and what's up with the new nick?" Warren wasn't sure if he was reading Remy's expression correctly, but the red on black eyes seemed filled with love.

 

"Mebbe I'm fallin' in love wit' you too..." whispered Remy shyly, averting his eyes.

 

Warren's heart skipped a beat. He had wanted to hear this all along, but now he wasn't sure. What if Remy was only reflecting his own love back at him? Avoiding answering Remy verbally, he slung an arm around the younger man and pulled him close. Remy came willingly and Warren choked up, hoping Remy's feelings were really his own and not mixed with his.

 

"Let's go back, Remy. I still owe you some hot chocolate."

 

Remy seemed disappointed; but tried to hide it and Warren's heart contracted in sympathy. "We shouldn't go too fast, Remy. Let's take this slow. Yes?" He felt relieved when Remy nodded. "We have all the time in the world to find out where we really stand."

 

Together, holding the other close, they made their way back to the mansion.

 

###

 

"Remy? Can we work some more on your empathy?" Charles steered his wheelchair in to Warren's room. Remy had never moved out again and he accepted that these two students were romantically involved. It might actually be good for them.

 

"Oui." Remy sighed and sat down on the couch. For the last four days Charles had regularly sought him out, teaching him more about his empathy. He was able to identify all sorts of emotions and now they were working on using them against a possible attacker.

 

"How are you doing today?" Charles' wheelchair came to a stop in front of the couch. 

 

"My hands still tingle..." Remy raised his hands and showed them to Charles. "I can' explain it."

 

Charles frowned. Remy had mentioned the tingling before and had even asked Hank to run some tests on Remy to make sure nothing was wrong. Hank hadn't found a thing; Remy was perfectly healthy. "And otherwise?"

 

Remy blushed. "Warren and I are growin' closer... I like him a lot."

 

"And I think the feeling is mutual," said Charles amused. Briefly he felt like giving Remy a lecture on safe sex, but quickly dismissed the idea. Remy knew more about sex, and safe sex, than he did. "Remy, I want to go to the second level, raise the dial a bit. I think you're ready for it."

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Ain' sure, m'sieur. I know how I can protect myself from alien emotions, mais... Do you really t'ink I'm ready for dat?"

 

"Yes, I do." Charles radiated as much calm and confidence as he could. "I can manipulate the device through your skin. You don't need to have surgery again." Charles moved a little closer. "We can always lower the dial again."

 

"Jus' do it." Remy pushed away his locks, giving Charles' access to the still bald area.

 

Charles saw Remy cringe when he touched the back of his neck. "This only takes a moment." His fingertips located the dial and he raised it to the next level. "Done. Do you feel any different? You might want to lower your walls to find out."

 

Hesitantly Remy obeyed. "Feels more intense..."

 

"In what way?"

 

"I can feel you... Feel you close, in this room. Feel your power, your...concern for me. It's more intense dan it was."

 

"Anything else?"

 

"De tinglin's getting worse... It's itchin' now..."

 

Charles filed away all new information. "We're going to work some more on mirroring alien emotions. If you reflect them back at the sender you can use them as a means of attack."

 

Remy nodded his head absentmindedly. They had done this before and it had worked. "Oui."

 

"Are you ready?" Charles waited for Remy to nod and sent the younger man a deep feeling of misery, depression.

 

Remy jerked, instinctively raising his walls.

 

"Don't... Mirror it, reflect it back." Charles studied Remy carefully. He sensed that the younger man was feeling more, feeling deeper and he feared Remy might fall into an deep abyss, lost in emotions. Remy, can you still hear me?

 

Oui, m'sieur.

 

This is the first time that you answer me telepathically. That's quite an achievement.

 

Merci, m'sieur.

 

I think we took a very important step today and I should let you rest. We'll work on your empathy again tomorrow and it will be a long session so make sure you're rested.

 

Oui, m'sieur.

 

Charles nodded approvingly. "You're doing great, Remy. You came a long way since you joined us and... I was wondering if you'd consider joining the team when you have more control over your empathy. The X-Men need someone like you." He hoped Remy would accept, the young man would be a valuable asset to the team.

 

Remy lowered his eyes. "M'sieur, you've done a lot for me since I came here and you knew I didn' trust you. Mais are you sure you want a whore on de team?"

 

Charles sighed and shook his head. "Remy, you're not a whore. You're an intelligent young man who has to work through his past, but you don't have to do that on your own, you have friends here."

 

"I'll t'ink 'bout your offer, m'sieur. I ain' sure I fit in wit' de team."

 

"You'd fit in perfectly," said Charles firmly and then played his trump. "And Warren would love for you to stay. He's an X-Man and I guess he'd love to have you as a teammate." Bull's eye! Charles decided to give Remy some time to think everything over and stopped pressuring Remy. "We'll talk some more tomorrow, yes?'

 

"Oui..."

 

"And maybe then you'll have an answer for me?"

 

"I'll try, m'sieur."

 

"I know you'll make the right decision," said Charles reassuringly and then steered his wheelchair to the doorway. "Before I forget... It's Bobby's birthday today and they want to go celebrating... Have a great time tonight, Remy. Go with them, don't stay here behind on your own."

 

"Is dat an order?"

 

"Maybe..." Charles smiled, and left the room, hoping his students would have a great time out tonight. They deserved a break.

 

###

 

"Murphy's, yeah, great place!" Bobby smirked. It was his birthday and he was determined to have a great time with his friends. It was a pity that Jean and the professor had stayed at the mansion, but hey, now it was a guys' night out! Even Scott seemed relaxed and was getting in the right mood.

 

"Robert... How about a Guinness?" Hank wiggled his eyebrows. He hated using the image inducer, but it was the safest way to spend the evening. He didn't want to draw any attention to them. Remy was wearing dark glass and Warren also had the image inducer on. Scott had changed his visor for his quartz glasses and they could almost pass for 'normal' people.

 

"Okay, the first round is on me!" Bobby wanted to order their beers when he caught Remy's upset expression. "Is something wrong?"

 

Remy moved in his chair in a nervous fashion, constantly looking about and he appeared extremely vigilant. "No beer for me... please"

 

Bobby frowned, hearing the soft tone and the added 'please'. "Of course, it's your call. Any special reason why you don't drink beer?"

 

"Don' do alcohol," said Remy hesitantly, constantly keeping an eye on the strangers around him. "Makes me act funny..."

 

"But that's the whole point," interjected Scott. "At least I don't act like I have a rod up my ass when I've drowned a few, and those are Bobby's words." Scott leaned back, obviously enjoying himself and looking forward to having some beers.

 

"Well, you do act like you have something up your ass!" Merrily, Bobby returned the joke and then turned serious again. "What do you want to drink, Remy?"

 

"Tea?"

 

"Tea?" Bobby shook his head, but smiled. "Sure, you can have tea. I'll be back in a jiffy."

 

Warren leaned in closer and managed to catch Remy's eyes. "I didn't know that."

 

"Never came up 'fore and I don' want to mess up, especially now dat de professor raised de dial."

 

"I understand," sighed Warren. "How are your hands?"

 

"Dey still itch. It's gettin' annoyin'."

 

Bobby returned with their drinks and handed Remy his tea. "The barkeeper sure gave me a funny look when I ordered that tea!"

 

"Ah, it's heaven come true..." Scott sipped his beer and nodded his head. "We should do this more often."

 

Hank also nipped his beer. "Very true. I wholeheartedly agree... but one thing is missing..."

 

"And what's that?" Warren knew he would regret asking that question.

 

"Twinkies of course!" Bobby stuck out his tongue at Hank. "But I even thought of that. Check the bag I brought..."

 

Hank uncovered the plastic bag and peeked inside. A wicked smile appeared on his face. "Twinkies..."

 

Remy watched the scene unfold with a lost look on his face and Warren felt sympathetic. "They are obsessed by Twinkies. They even have Midnight Twinkie Runs."

 

"And you're just jealous because you're never invited!" Bobby laughed warmly, sipping his Guinness.

 

Remy almost felt stupid for asking, but didn't have a choice. "What's a Twinkie?" He had never heard the name before and had no idea what this was all about.

 

Hank and Bobby's jaw dropped. "What?" They yelped simultaneously. "You don't know what a Twinkie is?"

 

"Sorry, non. Never saw dem in N'Arlings..." Remy felt uncomfortable; Bobby and Hank were staring at him like he came from a different planet.

 

"This, my friend," started Hank," is a Twinkie." He uncovered a box from the plastic bag and placed it on the table. "Hostess Twinkies... A truly delightful golden sponge cake with three cream filling." Hank's mouth watered, removing the wrapping. "Moist golden sponge cake, Creamy white filling of joy, Boy, I love Twinkies!"

 

Scott rubbed his temples. "I feel a headache coming."

 

Bobby grinned, unwrapped another Twinkie and offered it to Remy. "Try it. It tastes great!" Big-eyed, he nodded enthusiastically.

 

Remy looked at Warren first, wondering if he should go ahead and try the Twinkie or decline. Warren nodded, and Remy apprehensively took a bite out of the Twinkie. Merde, it was sweet!

 

"And? Do you like it? You have to like it! Twinkies are so cool!" Bobby grabbed another Twinkie, unwrapped it and shoved it into his mouth in one go.

 

"Bobby, please behave..." Scott had second thoughts about joining them for this birthday party that was quickly evolving in to a Twinkie party, but it was good to see them carefree and happy. Even Remy seemed to relax and enjoy his Twinkie. "I'm going to order another round of beer. Remy, tea?"

 

Remy nodded quickly. "No alcohol for me." He'd never forget the one time that he'd had beer. A john had persuaded him to drink some beer and he had given in, unknowing what effect it would have on him. After two beers his world had begun to spin and he had been unable to stop the john when the man had taken what he wanted, not even bothering to pay him. No, he was never going to lose control in that fashion again.

 

Warren frowned, seeing the fear in Remy's eyes. This was something they had to address in the future.

 

Scott returned and handed everyone their drink. After he settled down again in his chair he watched Hank and Bobby push another Twinkie in their mouths. Hopefully they would behave themselves during the next few hours.

 

###

 

"I need to take a leak, man... or else..." Bobby fought to get to his feet and staggered to the gents. "Slim, order me another beer?" He didn't wait for Scott's reaction, but stumbled in to the gents, eager to take that leak; he didn't think they would appreciate it if he flooded the pub.

 

"Oh, man..." He unzipped and relieved himself, sighing blissfully in the process. "Scott's getting drunk as well, this might be fun..." Hank however had stopped after his second beer and was now surviving on Twinkies and coffee. Warren, well Warren definitely looked tipsy, and Remy? Remy was still sipping his tea. "It's an okay birthday party, too bad they didn't give me any gifts, no, be fair. Hank gave me a pair of boxers with the Twinkies print on it and Scott promised I could sleep in late tomorrow... And Warren and Remy? Well, they didn't know they were going to be here during my birthday..."

 

Talking to himself, he didn't notice that three men had entered as well. He zipped up, wanted to turn around, but ran into three gorillas who wore leather and had several piercings. "Oops, wrong crowd." They looked menacing and he backed away from them. "Come on, guys, I'm not looking for trouble... It's my birthday!"

 

"You little fag. We don't want your kind around here..."

 

"Fuck off, you're not scaring me!" Bobby regretted drinking all that beer; it was making him sluggish and slow to react.

 

"Shut up, fagot!"

 

"Ouch..." One of them, the bald one with tattoos on his head, pushed him against the wall and he felt the cold tiles against his back, even worse, his feet were no longer touching the floor! "I mean it. Fuck off and leave me alone!" Bobby considered changing in to his ice form, but that would create even more mayhem. Now they were only mad at him because he was gay, but others might join in and help the goons when they realized that he was a mutant as well. If only Scott or Hank would help him out here!

 

"Oh, are we supposed to be scared?" One of the goons, all muscle and no brains laughed. "Fairies don't scare me!"

 

Bobby was thinking about an appropriately insulting reply when a fist connected with his stomach, making him nauseous as hell. Maybe changing in to his ice form wasn't such a bad idea after all!

 

Unexpectedly the door opened and Bobby released a happy 'Yeah!' when Scott entered. "Slim, help me!" But Scott wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, nursing an alcohol induced headache instead. "Shit, Scott!" Bobby struggled against the goon, but failed to help Scott, when another attacker wiped the quartz glasses off his face. Bobby cringed, fearing Scott's optic blast would destroy the place, but ingrained training took over and Scott immediately closed his eyes.

 

"Hey, it's one of the other fairies... Maybe we should start a party of our own!" The gorilla with the nose piercing grabbed Scott by the collar and slammed him against the opposite wall.

 

Bobby cringed, imaging he heard bones crack. Hopefully Scott wasn't injured. They had to get out of here before the bigots got a chance to inflict even more damage! "Scott? Slim!"

 

"Shut up!"

 

Bobby gasped, as strong fingers squeezed his throat shut. He had to change in to ice form, but thinking was getting harder... Suddenly the restraining hand loosened its hold and he drew precious oxygen in to his lungs, but then his heart missed a beat, finding that the bold guy was threatening Scott with a razor sharp knife, pressing it against Scott's throat. Damn, how could this have gone so bad so quickly?

 

"Wait," commanded their leader, "maybe we can have some fun first."

 

Bobby's stomach contracted, scared to think of what kind of 'fun' the bigots might have in mind.

 

"It's been a while since someone sucked my dick, kid..."

 

Bobby's nausea got worse. The goon who was holding him up against the wall lowered him back on to the floor and then pushed him down until he was on his knees. "Forget it!"

 

"We'll see about that..."

 

Cold sweat erupted over Bobby's body when his attacker began to unzip his leather pants. No, this wasn't happening!

 

"Non, stop... stop it."

 

Bobby's head jerked back, hearing Remy's voice. Shit, Remy was the one person he didn't want involved in this mess! He didn't know what it was, but Remy always seemed extremely vulnerable and even he felt protective of Remy. "Remy, get out! Now!"

 

"Shut up!"

 

Bobby's eyes bulged from their sockets when an elbow slammed into his back. Fuck, that hurt! Goon number one, his own personal tormentor, stared at Remy with a lustful expression and Bobby knew he had to get Remy out of here, ASAP. "Remy, go!"

 

"Non..."

 

It was too late now anyway. Goon number two had closed the door while goon number three still pressed a sharp knife against the throat of a helpless Scott.

 

Goon number two circled Remy and Bobby felt sick, knowing what would happen next. It was too obvious. "Leave him alone!"

 

"Shut up! You're starting to irritate me!" Goon number one licked his lips and focused on Remy. "Blondie here can suck me off first and then I'm gonna fuck you through the floor, candy-ass."

 

"What do you want wit' him, homme, when you can have Gambit suck your dick?" Remy moved closer and no one stopped him. "I know what to do, how to make you cum... Let him go..."

 

"Remy, no, don't you dare... Uch!" Scott fought for breath when a fist buried itself in his stomach.

 

Bobby's eyes were swimming; the fucking bigot had probably broken one of his ribs. "Don't listen to him. Remy, get back to your feet and get the fuck out!"

 

"Listen to Bobby," snarled Scott through his teeth, trying to stay in control of his emotions.

 

"Homme, let dem go. You have Gambit now..."

 

Bobby couldn't believe his eyes when goon number two nodded his head. "I'll try him. If he's as good as he says..."

 

His partners in crime laughed. "Yeah, try him, but leave a piece for us!"

 

Unbuttoning his jeans, goon number two moved in to the front of Remy. "Open up, queer. I'm gonna show you what a real man is made of."

 

Bobby glared at their attackers. No, this wasn't going to happen. Remy was probably trying to help them out, but this was the wrong way. "Fuck it." Changing into ice, he threw off his nemesis and moved toward Remy. "Scott, open your eyes, now!"

 

Scott obeyed, trusting his teammate and his optic blast slammed into the wall, sending down bricks and part of the ceiling. Bobby ignored the goons' screams and focused on Remy. "Get to your feet, we're leaving!" The sunglasses dropped to the floor and the blank look Remy gave him Bobby startled. "Scott, here are your glasses." He picked them up from the floor and handed them to Scott.

 

"Thanks, Bobby." Scott quickly put them on and sent another blast after their attackers, who hurried out of the room through the big hole in the wall.

 

Bobby carefully pulled Remy to his feet, worried by the empty expression in the red on black eyes. Remy was mentally absent for some elusive reason and it was up to him to get them out of here. Now that the goons were gone, he changed back, afraid that the cold might get to Remy in his current state. "We're leaving this place, okay, Remy? That's it, just put one foot in front of the other." Gently, he steered Remy to the doorway. Remy's actions still puzzled him. Why had Remy reacted like that, had offered himself instead of running away?

 

"What the hell's going on here?" Warren reached them first and immediately slung an arm around Remy's waist, almost pulling him away from Bobby. "Are you all right, Remy?"

 

Bobby released Remy and sighed. The adrenaline rush was over and he realized what a dangerous situation they had been in. Hank locked eyes with him and he nodded. "I'm all right. I think we're all okay. Scott?"

 

"Now that I've got my glasses back, yes. But I think that bastard dislocated my shoulder. Hank, would you have a look at it?"

 

"Of course." Hank walked over to Scott to examine his shoulder, but kept a close eye on Remy as well.

 

"Remy? What happened? Why are you shaking?" Warren felt at a loss.

 

Bobby couldn't stay quiet any longer. "One of those bastard wanted me to suck him and then Remy entered, offering to take my place. Called himself Gambit. I don't really get it."

 

"Remy? Did you really...?" Warren cocked his head, trying to capture Remy's glance, but Remy didn't react; he simply stared at the floor.

 

"We'd better get them to the Medlab. Scott assessed his injury correctly; he has a dislocated shoulder and I want to have a look at you, Robert, you're sporting bruises, and Remy of course." Hank was eager to get out of here. Three of them needed medical attention, which he couldn't provide here. "Warren, why don't you help Remy, and Bobby? You can drive."

 

"Let's move." Bobby grew worried now that Remy was acting like a sleepwalker, following Warren's instructions, but showing no sign of being lucid. He shivered and wanted to get out of here right now. Hank was right. They had injured teammates to take care of!

 

###

 

"What happened?" Jean quickly entered the Medlab, closely followed by the professor.

 

"We had a run in with some bigots," mumbled Bobby. Now that the adrenaline was gone he was beginning to feel the bruises he had suffered and one of his ribs was acting up. He sat down on one of the exam beds and studied Remy, who Warren helped sit down on the next exam bed. The alien eyes were still consumed by a frighteningly blank look.

 

"Jean, help Scott, he dislocated his shoulder. Warren, see if you can get Remy to lie down. Bobby, stay where you are, don't cause any trouble!" Hank directed his teammates, checking on Scott first. With a practiced move he managed to pop back the shoulder. "Here, he needs some sort of support." He handed Jean a sling and moved on to Bobby.

 

"Check on Remy first." His rib hurt, but he bit down the pain. Bobby was way more concerned about Remy.

 

"He's in shock, Robert. Let me have a look at you first. Warren's taking good care of Remy." Hank unbuttoned Bobby's shirt and removed it. "You should have changed to your ice form earlier."

 

"They were already mad with me for 'looking' gay. I didn't want to give them another reason to hate me. Others might have joined in..." Bobby hissed when Hank touched his ribs.

 

"I need to x-ray your ribcage. Jean? Could you do that for me?" Hank shooed Bobby off to see Jean. Scott was apparently doing better, already moving about again. "Rest a little longer, Scott," he instructed, but Scott waved away his advance.

 

"I need to update the professor." Scott walked over to Charles and the two of them disappeared in Hank's office where they had some privacy.

 

Now that he had his hands free, Hank moved on to Remy. "Good job," he complimented Warren, who had coaxed Remy in to lying down. "Remy, tell me what happened." But the Cajun remained silent, his eyes staring blindly at the ceiling.

 

"Hank, I think I know I what happened." Warren cringed, recalling everything Bobby had told him. "They were going to force Bobby when Remy stepped in and offered to take his place. He referred to himself as Gambit, not Remy. Gambit was his working name. He called himself that when I picked him up on the streets."

 

Hank nodded. "Maybe this brought back all sorts of traumatic memories. I'll ask the professor to reach out to him telepathically. It doesn't look like he'll react to us."

 

"I'm not giving up," said Warren firmly. He sat down on the side of the bed and gently stroked Remy's hair. "Hey, say something, Remy." Hank handed him a wet towel and Warren wiped away the cold sweat on Remy's brow. "It's all right now. You're safe. We're all here..."

 

"Keep talking, try to reassure him." Hank placed a blanket over Remy's body to make sure his patient wasn't cold. "I'm starting an IV with a saline solution."

 

"I feel so helpless," sighed Warren.

 

"You're doing the best you can do. You're here, reassuring him. Don't stop and ignore me." Hank hooked his patient up to the IV and hoped the professor could reach the young Cajun later.

 

###

 

An unexpected flash of anger moved through Charles, hearing Scott's summary. The fact that Remy had offered to take Bobby's place was a warning sign that he couldn't ignore. The young Cajun needed to be set straight, had to understand that his life, mind and body were just as valuable as Bobby's.

 

"Sir?" Deep lines appeared on Scott's brow. "I feel like I'm being kept in the dark. I can't help Remy or be a good leader when I don't know what's going on. Why did he call himself Gambit? Remy sounded and acted like someone else. That worries me."

 

"We'll talk about Remy after I checked on him. From the way he looked he might be reliving traumatic memories; his mind felt like quicksand." Charles steered his chair toward the doorway. "You're right. There are some things that you don't know, but this is not the right time. I need Remy's permission to tell you first."

 

"That bad?" Scott 's brow grew knitted.

"I'm afraid so..." Charles left Hank's office and joined Warren and Remy. "How is he? Did he speak to you?" Remy had turned his head away from Warren, and his eyes were wide open.

 

"Not a word. I've been holding his hand and a few minutes ago he returned the squeeze I gave him." Warren's eyes were filled with worry. "I don't get it. From what Bobby told me Remy... He acted like the hustler I picked up on Bourbon Street. I had hoped that Remy understood how important and precious he is."

 

Charles nodded once. "He wanted to help Bobby. Remy knows how traumatic rape is and he didn't want Bobby to live through it. It was a noble offer, but also very painful and foolish. The fact that he referred to himself as Gambit worries me. It might be that Gambit is just a creation, an alter ego, which Remy invented to deal with the pain and endure the suffering. He is caught in some bad memories, and then there's the shame and guilt."

 

"Can you help him?" Warren gently rubbed Remy's knuckles. "I don't want to lose him."

 

Charles gave Warren a thoughtful look. "He really means a lot to you."

 

"For the first time in my life I feel like I'm in love." Warren smiled saddened. "I ruined his life as a kid, I still don't understand why I did that. Remy's a good person."

 

"You were a child and now you're a man. We change and Remy can change as well. Don't give up hope." Charles drew in a deep breath. "I'm going to reach out to him."

 

"Can I stay? I don't want to leave him now." Warren's eyes seemed glued to Remy's face.

 

Charles smiled gently. "Yes, your presence helps." Concentrating on Remy, he reached out, only to be slammed back. "His walls are tight..."

 

"Please keep trying." Warren stroked Remy's hair, whispering soft reassurances.

 

Charles tried again; this time using more force and he managed to breach Remy's shield. Remy? I know you can hear me. Please answer me. Nothing. Remy remained quiet, but the alien eyes closed. Don't shut me out, Remy. I'm here to help. And you're scaring Warren. He's so worried about you! Charles knew he was fighting dirty, but he had to get through to Remy at all cost.

 

"Warren?" Remy's voice sounded distant, and shaky.

 

"Yes, I'm here." Warren reacted at once, relieved that Charles was getting a response. He also appreciated it that Charles had linked him with Remy. Now he heard Remy and Charles' conversation in his mind as well. "The professor's right, you know. I'm so worried about you."

 

"Don' need to be worried... Gambit's bien."

 

Warren cringed and exchanged a glance with Charles. "Gambit? Your name's Remy."

 

But Charles understood. Gambit is the one who deals with the pain and he appears when you feel scared and confused. Gambit protected you when you suffered traumas and is the strong one. Remy released a strangled yelp and Charles knew he was right. But the danger's gone now. Gambit can rest and Remy can take over. Remy, you're safe now.

 

Warren looked shocked, realizing what Charles was talking about. He had heard about people who developed alternate personalities to survive. Apparently Remy had developed his own coping mechanism. "Charles is right, Remy. You don't need to hide and be tough. You can rely on me to pull you through."

 

"I'm scared..." Remy blinked, as if waking up from some sort of trance. "You won' want me 'round no more and de ot'ers won' talk to me any more, knowin' what I am. I was just tryin' to help. It's not like I never gave head 'fore, I could deal wit' it, mais Bobby?"

 

Charles caught Warren's eyes and nodded encouragingly. It was time for Warren to take over. "Remy, we want you here. You're part of the team, of our family. Give us a chance to prove ourselves to you. I'm leaving now, but Warren will stay. Bobby will want to talk to you; he is worried as well."

 

"Don' know why..." Remy shrugged, turned on to his side, facing away from Warren and pulled up his knees. "Jus' a whore..."

 

"Remy, you need to stop this." Warren, fed up, moved over to the other side of the bed. He sat on his heels, placed his hands on both sides of Remy's head and stared deeply into the red on black eyes. "You're not a whore. You're a survivor. You need to stop living in the past and look at the present and toward the future. You can be anything you want. You're not what you did in the past. The past is gone. You have to grab the chances you're given now and move on. That's hard, yes, but you're not alone. The entire team will back you up."

 

Charles smiled approvingly and left the room, giving them some privacy. Warren was saying just the right things.

 

###

 

"Can' believe you." Remy felt lost and confused. He wanted to close his eyes and lock out Warren's face, his compassionate eyes, but failed. Entranced, he stared into Warren's eyes, hoping to find the truth there.

 

"Remy, you're an empath. You'd know it when I was lying. I'm not. I love you. I want you close and you're not a whore. You can search my feelings if you want to, but you won't find any lies."

 

Remy's eyes were swimming with unshed tears. "I know you believe your own words, mais dat doesn' make dem true for me. I always t'ought of myself as a whore. I can' change dat."

 

"You don't have to do everything in one go. You can take small steps, but you need to start walking." Warren smiled and caressed Remy's face. "You have no idea how much I love you."

 

Remy blushed. His empathy was telling him how much Warren cared about him. "I do know..."

 

"Then stop referring to yourself as a whore? Please?"

 

"I'll try." Remy managed a weak smile. "I picked up on Bobby's feelings when we were playin' pool. I had to help."

 

"Why didn't you tell me what you were picking up?"

 

"Didn' t'ink of it. I'm used to act on my own... Havin' friends is a new experience." Remy sighed deeply. "T'ought I was doin' de right t'ing."

 

Warren shook his head. "If you ever feel danger again, tell us? We're a team. We take care of each other. No one should sacrifice himself for someone else. That's not what the X-Men are about."

 

"What I did was wrong?" Remy tried to wrap his mind around that concept.

 

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Remy. But you're much too special to offer yourself like that. You have to trust in the team. We won't let you down."

 

"De next time I warn you?"

 

"Or another team-member."

 

Remy felt guilty and ashamed. "Sorry I messed up."

 

Warren licked his lips. "You didn't mess up. You reacted the way you're used to react. That will change in time. Probably once you feel safe and accepted by the team. Don't waste time on feeling guilty; concentrate on something positive instead. You've got me, my love and there are others who really want to be your friends and Bobby is one of them."

 

Bobby appeared in the doorway and Remy flinched. He didn't feel up to facing Bobby, but Warren already signaled Bobby to join them. Unable to meet Bobby's eyes, he stared at the wall. Now that he knew that his offer had been the wrong thing to do, he felt ashamed.

 

"Hi, Remy." Bobby pulled up a chair and sat down. Looking at Warren, he said, "Can I have a word with Remy in private? I'll be careful."

 

Remy's eyes widened. Non, Warren couldn't leave him alone with Bobby! He'd mess up again!

 

"Sure, I'll be in Hank's office..." Remy looked distressed at hearing his answer, but Bobby and Remy needed to talk in private. "I'll be right back." He pressed a kiss on Remy's brow and then left, Remy's eyes stinging his back.

 

"Remy?" Bobby leaned in closer, trying to catch the other man's eyes. "I'm glad you're doing better. I was really scared when you were unresponsive."

 

"Sorry, didn' mean to scare you." Remy peeked at Bobby, who looked calm. "You wanna talk to me?" Mon Dieu, he really didn't want to do this!

 

"Who's Gambit?"

 

Remy swallowed hard, not expecting such a direct question. "It's my street name."

 

"Huh?" Bobby frowned. "I don't understand."

 

Remy drew in a deep breath, preparing himself for the disgust on Bobby's face when the other man found out the truth about him. "I was a whore..."

 

"What?" Bobby's eyes grew big.

 

"Used to sell my body on Bourbon Street to make a livin'. Had to pay de rent and buy food. Don' have an education." Confessing his past to Bobby made Remy choke up. "I always lived on de streets, even when I was a chile."

 

"You..." Bobby's voice was shaky and he shook his head. "Please don't tell me you... did that... when you were a child."

 

Remy pushed himself in to an upright position; lying down only added to his discomfort. "Don' know my parents, Bobby. Dere was no one to take care of me."

 

"Oh, my God..." Bobby was speechless. "I..." Shaking his head, he tried to understand what Remy was telling him. "I can't believe it."

 

"Dat's how Warren met me. I was workin' dat night and he wanted some company." He'd better come clean now completely. Better to get it over with.

 

"Warren did what?" Bobby had a hard time picturing Warren picking up men. "I can't believe he would do that! Not Warren..." Seeing Remy flinch, he tried to explain. "It's not about you, Remy. You tried to survive, but Warren?"

 

"You hate me now?" Remy averted his eyes.

 

"Hate? No, but some things make sense now, like you offering to take my place and calling yourself Gambit." Bobby moistened his lips. "I know what you were trying to do, but please don't ever do it again?"

 

Remy nodded slowly. "Sorry."

 

"Don't be. Again, I know why you did it and knowing that you care means a lot to me, but it shouldn't be at your expense."

 

Remy cleared his throat. "Now what?"

 

"Now we're friends, Remy. And team-mates. I hope we can be open and honest about everything in the future."

 

Remy smiled. "Merci. Didn' t'ink you'd still want me 'round."

 

"Why is that?"

 

Remy realized he didn't know the answer to that one. The apparent one, 'cause I'm a whore', no longer worked. "Was scared you'd find out de trut' 'bout me and shun me for it."

 

Bobby shook his head. "Never. I just wish there had been a way to keep you off the streets."

 

Remy cringed. Maybe if Warren hadn't sabotaged his stay Bobby's wish had come true. "Can' change de past."

 

"You're right, Remy." Bobby slowly placed his hand on Remy's. "Friends?"

 

Remy smiled brilliantly. "Amis."

 

###

 

"Night, Warren, night, Remy, hope you'll get some sleep tonight." Bobby headed for his room while Warren opened the door to his.

 

"You be careful, mon ami, wit' dat cracked rib."

 

"I suffered worse!" Bobby smiled, waved at them and disappeared into his room.

 

Warren opened the door, and entered. Remy followed. A strange silence had plagued them since leaving the Medlab. Warren didn't know what was wrong, but was determined to find out.

 

"Gonna take a shower, bien?"

 

Before he could answer the Cajun disappeared in the bathroom. "Damn, what's wrong?" He sat down on the bed, trying to figure out when the uncomfortable silence had appeared for the first time. Not finding an answer, he gave up. He checked the time. It was almost two AM. Hank had wanted to keep Remy in the Medlab until he was sure that the Cajun had recovered. It was time to go to bed and to get some sleep.

 

Listening to the running water in the bathroom, Warren removed his clothes and slipped beneath the covers, where he promptly encountered Tails, hidden beneath the comforter. "Hello there, care to tell me what's wrong with Remy?" But the turtle didn't answer him -of course-. Had the empath picked up on something that upset him? What was it?

 

Five minutes later Remy entered the room once more and put on boxers and a too large T-shirt.

 

"Remy? Come here? We need to talk." Warren watched Remy sit down on the bed, the Cajun's back toward him. "Did I do or say something wrong?"

 

"Why don' you want me?"

 

Warren thought he had misunderstood. "What?"

 

"Why don' you want me no more?"

 

"Remy? Turn around? Look at me?"

 

The Cajun did and a stabbing pain pierced Warren's heart. "What do you mean? Of course I want you."

 

"You don' touch me... intimately. You don' touch me at all. Oui, we kiss, mais..."

 

Warren finally understood what was going on. "You feel rejected?"

 

"Oui." Remy stared at the floor.

 

"I just don't want to rush things. We started off on the wrong foot and..."

 

"Wrong?" Remy finally made eye contact.

 

"I paid you to have sex with me... What I really wanted that night was to make love."

 

"What's de difrence?"

 

The question tore Warren's heart in two. Seeing Remy lost like this caused an indescribable pain. "Is that it? You want to find out?" He had known this moment would come, but he hadn't thought it would happen this soon.

 

"Oui, you wanna show me?"

 

A lump had formed in Warren's throat and he swallowed hard. "I can show you what making love is, but I don't feel comfortable going all the way yet."

 

Remy's eyes mirrored confusion. "You don' wanna fuck me?"

 

Warren cringed. "Why don't we start with no longer calling it that? We'll call it making love from now on."

 

"Don' understand, mais if dat's what you want." Remy shrugged.

 

"Come, lie down. I feel lonely in bed without you." Warren pushed back the covers and opened his arms. Remy immediately slipped in to them.

 

"We'll go slow, okay?" Warren looked in to Remy's eyes, making sure the Cajun understood, but he only found confusion in the alien orbs. "Let me take the lead?"

 

Remy nodded, uncertain what to expect.

 

Warren initiated a lazy kiss, rolling Remy on top of him. He brought up his arms behind Remy's back and held him close. The Cajun parted his teeth and he slowly explored the warm cavern. As his tongue retreated, he licked the insides of Remy's lips, drawing a shudder from his lover. Looking in to Remy's eyes, he watched the pupils dilate. Remy was growing hard and it was time to remove some clothes. "We can do without the shirt."

 

Remy got the hint and removed it, throwing it on to the floor. Straddling Warren, he looked at the other man, wondering what would happen next.

 

Warren caressed the smooth skin until he encountered a nipple. He rolled it between his fingers, gently tugged it and was rewarded when the Cajun released small gasps. Pulling Remy toward him, his lips fastened on the erect nub and he licked it. Remy shivered again and he suckled the nipple gently.

 

"Mon Dieu..."

 

Warren smiled lazily. One hand continued to manipulate the nubs of hard flesh while his other soothingly stroked his lover's back. "Look at me, Remy..." The red on black eyes locked with his. "I love you..." Remy's eyes grew watered and Warren acted quickly, bringing Remy in for another kiss. Holding Remy tightly, he rolled the Cajun onto his back. Remy's legs parted involuntarily and after a moment's thought, Warren nestled between them. "The boxers have to go. Lift your hips, Remy."

 

Remy obeyed and he quickly removed the undergarment. "You're hard..." Back on Bourbon Street Remy hadn't shown any signs of arousal. Things had changed since then. Remy arched his back, trying to get closer to him. He had never gone down on a man before, and he wasn't sure he could pull it off, but he wanted to taste Remy. While running his hands over Remy's body, he leaned in closer and smiled at the weeping erection. This time he wanted to give pleasure instead of just taking it.

 

"What are you doin'...?" Remy yelped softly as something wet and warm touched the head of his cock. "Mon Dieu, what..." No one had ever done this for him! However, he had and he remembered how gross it had been the first times and he could tell by Warren's awkward movement that the other man wasn't used to do this. "You don' hafta..." The words didn't come easy, but he wanted to let Warren know that this wasn't required.

 

"I want to," managed Warren between two licks. Remy suddenly bucked and Warren's eyes widened, as he took in more than expected. Controlling his breathing, he managed to continue, but he stopped when Remy's thrusts became too wild. Removing his own boxers only took him a few seconds. Finally his throbbing erection bounced free as well.

 

Staring into Remy's pleading eyes, he aligned their cocks and began a thrusting rhythm. He saw the surprise in Remy's eyes when his lover realized that there wouldn't be any penetration tonight. "Enjoy it, Remy. Let your body move with mine..."

 

Remy thrust in return. Soft moans floated through the room as he experienced something completely new. He let down his walls, felt Warren's love for him and instinctively kissed his lover while wrapping his long legs around Warren's waist. Love... He had never felt like this before! And the most amazing thing was that Warren wasn't inside him! How would if feel once they 'really' made love?

 

Warren claimed Remy's lips again, deepened the kiss and sighed blissfully. "Can't keep back," he whispered apologetically. Reaching his climax, he suckled the tip of Remy's tongue.

 

Remy tried his best to match Warren's passion, chasing his lover's tongue with his. Feeling Warren's hot come drip on to his stomach, he reached orgasm as well, silently mumbling Warren's name.

 

Exhausted, they stared at each other and Warren was the first to act, showering Remy's face with gentle kisses. "That's how making love feels."

 

"Mon Dieu, didn' know I could feel dat way!" It was the truth. Sex had become synonymous with pain and humiliation and he had never expected it to feel this good. "Je t'aime, cher..."

 

Warren giggled softly. "We made a mess... We should get cleaned up or we'll end up glued together."

 

"Wouldn' mind bein' glued to you," said Remy in a shy tone.

 

"Oh, Remy..." Warren gently kissed Remy again. "Remember, we're taking this slow..."

 

"I understand, I t'ink, didn' at first... Merci for...dis."

 

"You're more than welcome, Remy..." He caressed Remy's face, hoping they were healing some of the hurt that lay so deeply buried in the Cajun's soul.

 

### 

 

Uhm, what? Where's...? Remy carefully peeked, and after making sure it was still dark, he opened them completely. He was alone in the bed, the window was wide open and Warren was nowhere in sight, not even on the balcony. Alarmed, he kicked back the comforter and jumped to his feet. Last night had been a unique experience, almost too good to be true. Had Warren second thoughts; was that why the other man had left?

 

A chilly wind blew into the room and Remy draped a morning robe over his shoulders, growing cold. He wrapped his arms around his waist and walked on to the balcony, staring at the starless sky. Too many clouds hid the moon and the stars from view, creating darkness. "Where are you? Why did you leave?" He had almost begun to believe that Warren really loved him, but that must have been a mistake, why else would Warren leave?

 

Feeling miserable, he started to turn around to go back to his lonely bed, but a unexpected silhouette against the dark sky caused him to gasp. Wide spread white wings brought Warren quickly closer and a moment later, the other man landed on the balcony, right in front of Remy, who felt speechless.

 

"You should be in bed, asleep, Remy."

 

"Was worried 'cause you were gone," admitted Remy within a heartbeat, he was through playing games. From now on he would be honest with Warren. "T'ought you had left me."

 

"I just wanted to go flying..." Warren smiled. "Why don't you put on some clothes? Then I'll give you an aerial view of he mansion and its surroundings."

 

"Are you really offering?" Remy had dreamt of that very offer. To go flying with Warren was his most secret wish!

 

"Yes, now put on some warm clothes. It's cold up there." Amused Warren watched Remy hurry off to get dressed.

 

"Must be a new record," joked Warren as Remy returned, fully dressed. "Can't have been more than two minutes."

 

Remy grinned. "What do I do now?"

 

Warren turned away from Remy. "Get behind me, wrap your arms around me and hold on tight."

 

Remy did just that, realizing he had never stood between those wings before. "Now what?"

 

"Now you hold on." Warren spread his wings and their feet no longer touched the floor.

 

A startled gasp escaped Remy, finding himself airborne. Staring below, he made out the contours of the mansion. "It's beautiful, cher."

 

"I thought you'd like it. Hold on..." Warren sped up, and climbed higher. "Ever wanted to touch the sky?"

 

Remy felt humble. "You got a grande gift, cher."

 

"Yours is pretty amazing too," said Warren. "Is it okay if we land near the lake?"

 

"Oui..." Speechless, Remy simply stared at the clouds passing them by. He regretted leaving them behind when Warren prepared for landing. A moment later, there was grass beneath his feet and the lake, which consisted of liquid black gold to his right. It was an enchanting night.

 

Warren sat down on the grass and signaled Remy to do the same. Remy rested his head against his shoulder and he covered Remy's hand with his, rubbing the skin. "Thanks for making love to me."

 

Remy choked up. "I didn' do a t'ing..."

 

Warren shook his head. "No, that isn't true. I saw the love and passion in your eyes. This is new to you and you don't really know to react."

 

"True..." Remy locked eyes with Warren. "Why did you bring me here?"

 

"To make out..." Warren grinned and kissed Remy. "That is if you can deal with the cold."

 

Remy nodded happily. Yes, he could deal with a little cold. "I never made out before," he admitted in a tiny tone.

 

"I know that." Warren's fingers played with strands of Remy's hair. "We'll make out a lot, go out on dates, make love."

 

A lump formed in Remy's throat. He had dreamt of those things, but had never thought he would actually have them! "Je t'aime..."

 

"How touching!" a cold voice sneered through the dark night.

 

"Remy!" Warren jumped to his feet, pulled Remy along and quickly turned about, facing the new arrival.

 

"Sinister!" The red eyes and diamond betrayed the scientist's presence in the darkness. Remy joined him, hiding half behind him and he sensed his lover's panic. "Stay calm, Remy." He reached for his lover, grabbed his hand, ready to fly away if Sinister launched an attack. At the same time, he concentrated and used the link the professor had installed in his mind when he had joined the X-Men. He sent Charles and Jean a warning and a silent cry for assistance.

 

"You have something that belongs to me and I want it back." Sinister crept closer.

 

"Oh no, you're never touching Remy again! I should have known it was you when he mentioned the name Nathaniel, but I didn't pay attention. I alerted the X-Men and they'll be here in a few seconds. You'd better leave now." Warren wished he had some kind of weapon. Looking over his shoulder, he found that Remy was rubbing the palms of his hands. They were probably itching again!

 

Sinister glared at him, but Warren remained steadfast. "You can't have him. He's not your property!"

 

"But he's an empath and makes me feel again..." Sinister laughed coldly. "I'll never let him go!"

 

"Cher? Cher!"

 

Warren turned toward Remy, but managed to keep on eye on Sinister at the same time. "What is it?" Suddenly, he saw the red gleam that surrounded Remy's gloves. It looked like they were burning! "Remove them! Throw them away. Don't take any chances."

 

Remy moved quickly, stripped off the gloves and threw them at Sinister. They impacted with a loud and violent explosion, almost rocking Sinister off his feet.

 

Warren realized their chance, grabbed Remy tightly and took to the sky, leaving a bewildered Sinister behind on the ground. "What was that about?"

 

"Don' know, cher... De itchin' is gone for now."

 

"But it will be back." Warren looked down; Sinister was cursing loudly, but the scientist wasn't taking up pursuit. "When we get back to the mansion you need to talk to the professor and Hank. It's unusual for a mutant to have two gifts, but it's not unheard of."

 

"You t'ink dis has somet'in' to do wit' me bein' a mutant?" Remy's sharp eyes could still make out Sinister's form and the craters at his feet.

 

"I'm sure of it, and Remy? Now you have a way to fight off Sinister." Warren grinned.

 

"Oui, mebbe you're right..." Remy rested his head on Warren's shoulder. "T'ings will never be de same 'gain."

 

"Very true... They're going to be better!" Warren cocked his head and gave Remy a smile. "Much better."

 

The end.


End file.
